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,


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.