The Voice of the Voiceless

I live in a roofless place I do not have an expensive fur You might not like the way I feed myself And I know, you neither like my presence nor my appearance as I'm drowned with muddy paws on a rainy day juddering with runny nose on a snowy day and roasted with shiny dirty coat on a sunny day Yet under this already darkened brightness of the sun I'm wounded with heavy pebbles and threatening rods and the voices showing disgust. I'm a stray But I have a life too.