Lost

[Bob Pacey]

I have change this a bit since the original Maureen but I think it fits the subject.

Lost

He lay there in the dirt and dust just off Collins street
needle tracks up both his arms no shoes upon his feet.

In the grime filled filthy doorway of an old abandoned shop
though people passed him lying there none took the time to stop.

A Vinnies worker found him and recoiled at the sight
a piece of flotsam on life's ocean another victim of the night.

How long he had been dead it was impossible to tell
the bruises on his battered face spoke of living hell.

Was he here because he chose to be or forced to be by fate
the product of a fractured family torn apart by hate.
or
Did he come in from the country wide eyed and full of hope
a runaway who'd lost his dreams consumed by drugs and dope.

Would his body now lie in some morgue broken and defiled
Would no one mourn his passing for he was some mothers child.

A story told so often but to which there is no happy end
such loss of innocence and youth so hard to comprehend
for
This is the land of plenty where all are equal so they say
but are some more so than others? Are there no shades of grey?

So we go about our daily lives but we all must bear the cost
nothing changes, life goes on and another broken soul is

lost.

Bob Pacey (C)

[DollyDot]

Nice Bob,
Though sadly so true.

Cheers
Dot

[Maureen K Clifford]

I like your revamp of this one Bob - such a shame that the numbers of young kids succumbing to this evil are not decreasing despite all the publicity that is out there.

[Catherine Lee]

Very good Bob - tells it like it is in a direct manner and makes people think.