on the street, no home
a poor time of my life
in my twenties
all alone, city stranger
a meal a day
getting skinny
sleeping on sidewalks
or in a city park
it was no easy lark
but there was freedom
no possessions to possess me
just my coat to warm me
and worry about
where my next meal would be
coming from
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem