About the Author
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My Mom and I had gone to Washington, D.C. to a poetry convention. What I saw broke my heart. It is a beautiful city with a desperate problem.
People were sleeping under the statues. We went on a trolley ride into the downtown area. I looked down the street and saw homeless people wrapped in plastic because of the rain. They lined the sidewalks for two blocks.
When I was crying Mom asked, "Why are you crying?" I said, "Look around, we are in what is considered the wealthiest country in the world. We are in the richest city and all of these people are sleeping on the streets. This is what you expect to see in Third World countries."
I was also embarrassed because of the people from other countries on the trolley.
I was also ashamed.
A friend of mine said, tour D.C. by night! We did. What an awesome sight, grand building and all. At Lincolns feet you feel so small. And the cemetery stones a ghostly white. It was a silent moment, what a cost. The young men and women we have lost! The downtown. Whats that rolled in plastic? Not a safe place to leave new carpet! Wait! Its a tuft of hair, not carpet! LOOK! Body Bags of people, all lined up. A shoe, an arm, a tuft of hair! Sleeping on the concrete! I cried, "Doesnt No theyre not dead, walking corpses you see. For they lost hope. Theyve lost their dreams! They may as well be in body bags it seems.