Cold

He's Coldly sitting
on hard concrete
no one prays
like he's dead meat

Waisted on nothing
Having no hope
poor and unruly
he's nobodys hope

Then she comes
kind and with a smile
gives him 50 dollars
Nice enough to stay awhile

Good enough
he buys food and clothes
25 left, gives it to another
He was the one to be chose

He survives
a winter made of cold
all from a lady
with a heart of gold

Your words paint a vivid mental image.
It also reminded me of this guy where I live, that stands at this intersection everyday during rush hour begging.
On a day before Christmas, lots of kind ladies were stopping to press money in his hands and handing him bags full of food and clothes.
I envy people who can evoke so many common emotions and memories with just a few small words.

Thanks! I appreciate your feedback. Oh and no need to envy me! You worte that beautiful poem about teen angst, that one, in my opinion is way better than mine! Yours speeks of more emotion.

That is an amazing poem. Really amazing. It's... amazing.