Lighthouse

It is cold tonight, the streetlights cry,
While body temperatures drop,
Card board boxes turn into Bathroom stalls,

From one bacteria filled space,
Trade it in for a urine filled floor,

If the streets could speak,
How many stories would it tell?
Would anybody be safe?

Blond Girl, California Girl,
Accent so annoying,
Homeless people reject her change,

Accepting smiles instead of pity,
Don’t feel sorry for me,
Unlike you; I wasn’t born into riches,

Amount of times I’ve been arrested,
For sleeping on park benches,
Walking through Wal-Mart aisles,

Only trying to warm up my hands,
Everyday begging; God help us,

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