Ghost

Some people have it better than others,
Decidedly. A ghost passed by today,
A young man, maybe 30, a zombie,
Vacant, pinpoint raccoon eyes, lost, searching
For (where did he learn this?) something to eat

From garbage cans on the street, dirt-wrapped hands
Reaching for edibles, knowing between
Paper and food. No glance around to see
Who might be watching, frowning, betraying
Emotion, searching within for debate.

Grey-brown clothing, layered with piss perfume
Protects against privacy invasion.
There is no voice heard, only memory.
Eat, eat, something about eating. Eat, eat,
Life will somehow go on and on and on.

Some people have it better than others,
Undoubtedly. Some are born to great wealth,
Others to great poverty, but the ghost
Inspires great emptiness in our souls
We must hide from the eyes of our children.