Homeless

Whoever finds themselves alone, To make their bed a slab of stone, Goes there but for the grace of I To contemplate the reason why. Who knows the journey each have led? The horrors which they may have fled. Financial ruin is one such fate, Or just hard luck, the loss is great! And so, a life where pride is lost To forage bins at any cost. Where passersby will turn their heads To go home to their comfy beds. A placard scratched out more in hope Disguises that they fail to cope And thus, the empty cups reveal The hopelessness they can’t conceal. The cold and bitter winters night, The cardboard box for which they’ll fight, May stave off hypothermia But do little for insomnia! It’s miserable to say the least, The fact that they will never feast Or just to shower, enjoy a cuddle, Instead a lowly fire they huddle. Have we now become so cruel? Whereby society will often drool On celebrities who matter not, Whilst these poor souls are thus forgot!