How Is This Me

Huddled tight, coat closed to the rain
How did I get here I often complain
Missed payments on my house as I was on strike
Few months without money. You know what its like
Borrow from Peter to replenish Paul
Then it escalates, and then comes the fall
So now I sit in doorways on old newspaper sheets
Day in day out, week after week
Im asking for change from these people on the walk
They throw me pennies, but don’t stop to talk
Im a human being, and was once you
Now Im looked at like dirt or stared right through
All I need is a chance, someone to give me a break
Id like to be earning, not living on the take
If someone stopped to speak, and find out what went wrong
The nights are cold, and the days are long
I used to watch your money, and invest in stock
I lived in the penthouse of a high rise block
Now I sit in the gutter, and beg you for money
People pass me by, and think my situation funny
Just give me a job, put some faith in me
I work for any wage , just to set me free
To show you my worth, my value, my fight
But for now it’s a cold floor and another sleepless night

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017



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Date: 3/18/2017 7:44:00 PM
Oh Sandra honey this is such a sad poem of the heart and so true to life sad to say! My heart goes out to so many out there in these situations each day.I can't pass anyone up without trying to help them with money or food if I can when I see them in need.Thank you for stopping by my page sweetie.It was appreciated. A '7' for sure.God bless. Mary :)
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Date: 3/13/2017 9:01:00 AM
What a sad society we live in Sandra, they say we are all only one payslip away from homelessness, I have wrote two poems on this subject if you would like to have a look, well written, Roy.
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Riley Avatar
Sandra Riley
Date: 3/13/2017 10:59:00 AM
I have read your poems Roy, so accurate and with feelings
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