Down And Out Poem by Bron Kozakiewicz

I have lived on our capital's streets,
And spent my days begging at Londoner's feet.
They won't help you up when you are down and out,
The only way back is to shout and to shout,
And hope that your pleas fall on the right ears.
Pray they can see through the dirt to your tears.
During that time I learned a lot,
About the people we are, The haves and have-nots.
How some of them care and some of them don't,
The way some people help and some just won't.
Sometimes your angry and so full of hate,
That you think the world owes you it all on a plate.
But other times when you are mellow and calm,
Not many people mean you any harm.
Some people won't look you straight in the eye,
Because if they did it would make them cry.
They would see the sorrow that's there in your face,
And wonder what's wrong with the whole human race.