Daily Prompt “Gone” Writing Exercise

gone-are-the-days-logofinal-1

Gone are the days of dancing,

Gone are the days of looking to the future,

Gone are the motorcycle rides on the mountain roads in the forest,

Gone are the days of partying till dawn,

Gone are the yearly New Years Eve parties where I laughed till I peed,

Gone is the 9 ft. tournament pool table that many friends found relaxing,

Gone from the house in Hulmeville,

Gone was a wonderful way of life,

Gone are the days of form-fitting clothes,

Gone are the days of a full head of hair,

Gone are the days of having hair any where,

Gone are the days of running any where,

Gone are the days of Pink Floyd,

Gone are the days of being 70.

Advertisements

What If I Became Homeless?

Here on earth worrying about work tomorrow is a real life concern.  If I lose my job tomorrow I will be homeless in about 3 months tops. When a star dies does another one comes to life somewhere else. Is that what would become of me?  My life as I knew it would die like the star and a new way of life would come into existence under a bridge.

Anyone can become homeless it all depends on where they are on the food chain. What’s that old saying, “but for the grace of God there go I”. Would I live long enough to make a place for myself under the bridge or would I die trying. How many times would I be raped before the Lord would take me home and comfort me.

Homelessness has always frightened me. maxresdefault

How would I survive out there under a bridge somewhere? Would the other homeless people living under the bridge welcome me? I think not, at least not all of them. But I would only need one good homeless person who has compassion and wouldn’t judge me for the clothes I’m wearing. After all I would’ve just arrived under the bridge and my clothes and my appearance would be different from those around me. I’m in their environment now.

Would they let me warm myself by the glow of the beautiful fire they maintain for the ‘people under the bridge’?

How would I make my own space, that little spot under the bridge that no one had taken? Would the material things that I was able to take with me when I lost the comfort of the home I’d made for myself in society be enough to get me started.

What would I sleep ‘on’?

How would I rest and not worry about someone taking my stuff? If someone did take  my precious belongings what would I do about it? Would I fight for myself to get them back?Would I make a stand in front of all the people under the bridge? I would have to do something because if I let them take one of my belongings, there is a good chance some of the other homeless persons under the bridge would get the same idea and I would be left with near to nothing.

What would I eat? How would I find food? I would have to be willing to fight for the morsels found in the nearby dumpster. Would I gag at the sight of the contents of the dumpster or would I fill my empty stomach with whatever I could find that wouldn’t make me sick?

Would I learn the way of the homeless, or would I die while sleeping under the bridge? If I did die like the stars in the universe what would happen to my body? Would someone tell the authorities that I died? Or would they just take the rest of my precious belongings and leave me to disappear into the darkness like the star that dies in the universe?

Would the other homeless under the bridge hear my sobs during the night as the stars are dying and being reborn somewhere else in the universe? Probably not because their own tears and hopeless sobs are drowning out those I’m making.

Would I get comfort from the stars in the universe? Would I see one die and reappear somewhere else? Would it really make a difference to me? I think not!

God Bless the Homeless