the streets
Sun on the ground, warm on the bottom.
Heat from the bricks.
In that moment troubles forgotten.
Winter rain brings misery, soaked to the bone.
nothing dries, you still cry.
Never felt so alone.
Stranger propositions make you feel as worthless as can be.
Sins a plenty offered.
Can anything be sold for a fee?
The kindness of strangers is not always what it seems.
A price never expected to pay.
but you say you're living the dream.
Let me be your helping hand, clarity and scope.
The signpost and navigator.
The warm embrace of hope.
Copyright © Rich Lewis | Year Posted 2024
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