Hard Roads Taken

Greg Prince
2 min readFeb 5, 2019


Plights very present and some hidden inside dark spirits.

Don’t have a way.
Don’t have a home.

Despise me.
Cuz you're better.

Revile me.
Cuz you have and I don’t.

Shame me for your loss.
Cover me in a hateful sweater.

Take away kindness.
Please don’t even look.
Avert your hopeful eye.
For mine is gone.

Lost in a war I never wanted.
Forgotten in a family couldn’t provide for.

My failure and desperation are your joke.

You pass me, flip me a dime.
But it only buys me more hurt.

Seek no more.
Where can I find exit?

Is there rest?
Is there an end?

Where is the winning open door?
Seek no more.

So I take a grocery store sink bath.

Take these shackles away.

Remove these stains.

Even comb my hair.
But, will I get a job?
Will anyone notice?

Standing for a chance.

Will anyone care?

Screaming inside, hunger crying, “No more!”
Pick up my pants.

Suspenders are holding me straight.
Boss, she tells me in her fake sincerity,
“Sorry, we can’t help you. Position gone today.”

“Thanks” is all I can say.

Now I’m sleepin’ on the road again.
Tar consoles my crying.
Dirt, my pillow tonight.
Stars fill my visions.
Dreams for tomorrow.
Change the path ahead.
No hand reaching out for real solution.
Got to learn to strike my self-derision.
Learn to love me instead.

Can you hear me?
If anyone is out there,
I just need a chance.
A chance to live again.

To work, love, and dare.



Greg Prince

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.