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The coldest of nights in the centre of town,
her dark, shabby eyebrows are set in frown,
of frustation, contempt against every person,
for whichever reason, we cannot be certain.

She mumbles and mutters and chats to herself
Appearance screams she's no regard for her health
Her fingers are filthy from digging in bins
As though she believes she will find better things

The truth? It's still rubbish she puts in her mouth
Saves some for later without any doubt
Any cares for the people who are passing her by
Unconcerned footsteps where tonight she must lie.

They know not the reason why Eva's a tramp
Why she sleeps in the puddles, not just spirits damp
They know not that Eva has a house and a home
But she CHOOSES to live on the streets that she roams

Go back a few years where this girl had a life
She'd lived many moons as a Mother and Wife
Til one night a fire swept through Eva's loved home
She woke up to find she was now all alone

So Eva decided to end this sad chapter
a recluse, a defence, so no one could hurt her
or leave her, or die, or be taken away
Unloved like the mangiest dogs, she's a stray

So next time you wonder why Eva's alone
This sad, lonely tramp is too scared to go home.


24th October 2011

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