I'm trying to work out in my mind
Why the night shelter demands
10 Dollars a night to rest out of the cold
And danger, when to beg for it is unlawful
How else do I obtain it?
Its also illegal for a poor mexican that wants to feed his family to
Gain entry into thr US.
But who picks the crops?
All double standards.
Try to be like me.
Being poor is unspeakable.You are not black or white,
Or middle or lower class.
You are nothing.
Treatment of our kind
Means bedding in shelters
Treated like filth, chased away by storekeepers
Moved on or locked up by the Police.
We have no voice, and no face
But I never wanted to be like this.
It happened on a maelstrom of divorce
House loss and job loss.
But you see us everyday
Except you turn away
And try not to meet our eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem