Locked Doors

Shades drawn,
To protect from the outside.
You can run
But you can't hide.

Glass strewn everywhere,
Bleak black buildings,
The streets tell a story,
And not a pretty one.

Down in the Dumps,
It's a real place.
Where you live,
Nowhere else to go.

You try your best,
But you know,
They are right outside
Waiting for you.

There's no escaping,
The sounds,
The smell,
The desperation.

People walk by quickly,
Nay, they run.
To get away from there,
As fast as they can.

Eyes peer through the curtains
As I hurry by
Just passing through
On my way home.

Home.
Where there's light and food and company.
Where it's safe
And warm.

Sticks and stones
May break your bones
And thin metal doors
Cannot protect you.

And I thank G-d
I'm not you.