Homeless. Poem by Sandra Kavanagh Josefsson

Your home is a cardboard box.
Your pillow a few newspapers.
You sleep on the street corner
under the night sky.
And as you lie there looking
up at the gleaming stars,
you ask yourself how and why?

How did this happen?
This dreary life of yours.
It can happen to anyone
behind closed doors.
Addictions, illnesses, loss of jobs
are only a few of the reasons
that drove your heart to sob.

And some people treat you like dirt,
with their so judgemental ways.
Call you a "bum"
and look at you with distain.
When they come out of the pub,
they kick your cardboard box.
Stupid ignorant people
who have to learn lots.

But some days are good.
Some days you meet a kind soul,
who will buy you some cofee and a ham roll.
Who will chat for awhile and give you a hug.
Who will treat you like a human being.
Who will not shrug.
And each day you dream
that your life will change.
That you will wake up one morning
and everything won't look so strange.
That you have people around you,
that will give you love and care.
Thats all anyone wants,
just someone to be there.

Verse: Sandra Kavanagh (c) .