Every Jesus Saint Poem by Uriah Hamilton

I admire the hearts
Misery bound
In chains of romantic defeats,
Adore the broken souls
Gazing down lonely streets
Upon nothing but the silence
Of their own softly walking feet
Traveling nowhere
Beneath dismal grey skies
Of weeping, unrecognized, discouraged beauty.

I identify with outcast children
Given anxiety drugs
And then placed in a corner
Or swept under the rug,
And the homeless vagabonds
Slowly dying in the cheap wine-bottle night
Pacing a loveless path
In the terrible aftermath
Of the death of the American Dream.

Modern society has learned to transform
Every Jesus saint visiting the current day
Into weed-like annoyances to be uprooted
Or crushed in time by the machinery press of survival
Or the psychological and spiritual despair
Of the calendar cruelly twisting their stay
Into epochs of pointlessness and disregard.