Wandering

Hey Grade,
This poem has NOT been made into published material, please give me your comments on the PROS and CONS about the poem and how I can improve it... Thanks!

Wandering
by: Marc L.
Grade: 6A

I scrummage for the food
that fell out of her sandwich
This is my usual breakfast a few measly crumbs
and if I’m lucky some leftover scraps from the
bottom
of a restaurant garbage

Walking all alone
in Brooklyn seeing many others of my type
Looking as hungry
and tired as me
cold empty stomachs showing through their faces
Is this how I really look

What has become of me
Who am I
My name is Frank but is it that
now

I’ve been traveling on this road
for a long time
So long I have lost track
The road that put shaggy
dirty clothes on my body
a road where
hunger concurs everything

What is my step-father thinking right know
No
why should I care
I am here because of him
Everything he said and did to me drove me
out
I wish I could just run home
and talk to mom again
but I can’t stand going to his house

People told me he loved me deep down
but I think it’s
crap
He would have treated me like his real son
not his step-son

I miss dad
real dad
He is in Canada
and I wish I could call him
but my minutes are up

I must keep my mind of that topic
and think about where I’m going
to sleep
what I’m going to eat
and keeping worm

I can’t keep on sleeping in that back alley
cause last night I saw a gang gather nearby with
guns!
Maybe under a bench in Central Park
will do

I scrummage for the food
that fell out of her sandwich
This is my usual lunch a few measly crumbs
and if I’m lucky some leftover scraps from the
bottom
of a restaurant garbage

Waiting
hoping
Craving
for a friend to recognize
me behind this wall that separates
me
from
reality

Looking in garbage cans for thrown away bottles
there are dozens just lying
not doing anything

Inspecting myself
in a shop window
I have gotten so skinny
but not in a good way

All those kids
looking so happy
in their big fur coats
going into huge toy shops
and having their daddies buy them everything

I hate all that!
I hate it!
I hate it!
I hate it!
My life was never like that
and never will be
I was cut off
from being spoiled
given
or loved
when I was younger

I feel like screaming
at the top of my lungs
but I don’t know
if I’m able to
my mouth is so parched
and I’m not sure if I want to
waste what I’ve got left

I scrummage for the food
that fell out of her sandwich
This is my usual dinner a few measly crumbs
and if I’m lucky some leftover scraps from the
bottom
of a restaurant garbage

Marc L.