* * *

I wrote this for all the homeless people,
many of whom are treated like useless
garbage and a blur on society.

* * *
You look at me in horror
As you hurriedly walk on by
So disgusted by my being
You cannot look me in the eye

You really cannot judge me
I never wanted it this way
But this is where I live
On this bench is where I lay

My friends have since departed
They just didn't understand
I had fallen on hard times
Needing more than a helping hand

But no one came to help me
I was left to cope alone
The walls crumbled all around me
There was no place that I called home

This bag holds my belongings
You see I really don't have much
Just a collection of my memories
A few photographs and such

The pigeons that surround me
They don't judge me like you do
If you could step inside my shoes
You would see a different view

My heart says much about me
It's the most valuable thing I own
At night I hear it beating
And I don't feel so alone

So if you pass this way again
On this poor side of town
Please show me some respect
For I'm not a freak show clown

* * *

"The source of love is deep in us
and we can help others
realise a lot of happiness.
One word, one action,
one thought, can reduce
another person's suffering
and bring that person joy"