Pull down the night
sky
to use
for a blanket and a
cloud or two to comfort
you
a couple of stars in your ears
to lighten the load of your fears
and settle down for the evening,

it's getting colder and you know, not because we've told you,
but because you feel it creeping into your veins
fogging your brains and maker it harder to think and so you sink into an uneasy sleep where the dreams that turned bad are the dreams that you had long before this kiss of death

and each breath that you take makes you wonder if taking one more breath is better than..but if hope's on the horizon it had better get its skates on,
time's running out for those sleeping out and Winter is licking her lips.

It's really humiliating
To be shaking a cup
24 hours a day
And people just look
At you like you're
Some sort of ***

I go to fill out applications
They look at me and
I'm not looking presentable
And then they
"Well, we'll call you
Leave a number"
But how can I leave a number
When I don't have a phone

It's just a struggle

I've had people
walk past me and
Say "get a job you ***"
And I said "wait a minute"
"I'm not a ***,
I'm a human"

And, it's hard

After the end of the day
When people go home
I just feel so bad
That I can't be
Going home too

Have you forgotten me,
the grey beard that lives nowhere,
hungry, and looking through
ash trays for some stray ****
with just enough tobacco
to get a hit of relief.

Awkward as hell,
occasionally, talking to myself
because nobody else
wants to even acknowledge me.

These are my city streets.
This is my cold hard concrete,
an indifferent existence
cause people go out of there way
to ignore my presence.

Slender man who scans
the eyes of strangers
for some opening,
so I can ask them
for a cigarette
or a couple of bucks to get
anything to eat.

Shoulders slumped,
back collapsing under the weight
of exhaustion, cause it’s getting late
and I don’t have a place to stay.

So, I stumble about till I find
the closest spot to safe where
I can sleep and no one there
will threaten or shoe me away.

Like groundhog’s day
I repeat, a shade of myself,
echoing just enough
to survive another night.

Her skin is full
of holes, and
she's ***** by
the dawn on a
daily basis;
wandering the midnight
streets of this
broken City.
Her feet are
calloused and raw.
That once tough heart is
soft now, looking for
love in the rabid
faces of evil.
Seagulls still fly into
cars, and spiders
spin webs in the dark.
Abandoned houses have
become her home
and her soul aches
for someone to hold.
Sometimes,
dreams float by,
like a dragonfly
on a soft breeze.