15 Years the Street

Who in their right mind, would set this out as life, to live their days on edge, the edge of a sharpened knife. I belong now to the streets, worn out and alone, Looking from afar, I wonder to the warmth of home. I think on my deeds for addiction, only for it to return, the possibility of hell for me, for eternity to burn. As I huddle here upon the street, I seem to cause you friction. You, the world, pass me by without care or conviction. In the days of old, when I was new to born, you wished for me a life of full, just like Christmas morn. But the days have passed, the stress etched upon my face, soon I’ll be gone from here, gone without a trace. Addictions don’t take lightly, alcohol, drugs or gambling, for you may spend your life on darkened streets rambling. I have 15 years on the street now, I think this to be true, praying only for memories, of the family I once knew. Instead, all I hear repeating, my addiction is the call, I have no choice to answer, even though it caused my fall. I wander on the streets now, all of them I know, my rugged appearance illustrates, how badly this time does flow. Maybe one day we will be united, all of us together, spend our time in happiness, in the time of forever. But for now I’ll continue on, through the streets so bold, searching for the memories, that surely I must hold.