Help
My feet are cold.
My socks are wet.
This empty feeling inside, I’ll never forget.
I’d give anything to have one night in a bed,
Or even just a pillow for under my head.
Rain, hail or shine, I’m always here,
I can’t do this much longer, my heart’s filled with fear.
You walk past me, as I sit here on the cold ground,
Could you not spare me anything? Not even a pound?
Do you know I haven’t eaten today?
I’m lost like a cat that’s wandered astray.
You do your best to avoid eye contact with me,
When all I really need is a hug and a cup of tea.
I know I look dirty and smell a bit funky,
But please have some respect and don’t call me a junkie!
As I sit here observing the world go by,
I can’t live like this; I just want to die!
At night I pull my sleeping bag over my face,
I’d sell my soul now just to have my own place.
So, when you sit in self-pity, drinking your beer,
Come switch places with me, and you can sit here!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
