HOMELESS

HOMELESS

Hello sir, I’ve got something I want to tell you, can we talk?

I’ve been seeing you, you know, you pass along this block,

I’ve been wanting to ask you, but you’re always fast when you walk,

Sir, do you think I’m different, you know, from the rats in the dock?

There’s something in the way you look at me, like you mean to mock,

And it’s been really disturbing me, day-in, day out, round the clock,

I’d have followed you home, but didn’t think you’d open if I knock,

So tell me sir, what do you think of me? I’m I just part of the sidewalk?
I just can’t seem to understand, no matter how much I rack my brain,

I watch the rest of you and ask myself, does anyone understand my pain?

Is it my fault that I don’t have a home? That I have to sleep out in the rain?

That I’ve been reduced to combing through garbage cans my life to sustain?

Do you have to insult me when I beg for food? Couldn’t you be a bit humane?

I’m I just good for the camera for you to beg for funds from which I never gain?

What happens to the funds you get after you use my face in your campaign?

What did I ever do to deserve going through this pain again and again?
Sometimes I wonder how it feels like to wake up knowing what you will eat,

For breakfast, lunch and dinner, without the rats and street dogs to compete,

That you’ll have a roof over your head after a day under the suns scorching heat,

And not have to just drop anywhere without anything to cover with in the street,

To have a bed to sleep on and not have to spend your nights on cold concrete,

To have a mom or dad to stand up for you when bullies and strangers mistreat,

To be able to eat well, to bathe, have a nice change of clothes, to be neat,

Not having people turn away from you like you have MERS when you try to greet,

I’d love to know a new normal, to know how it feels like not going without,

To live a life free of such mystery, free of all this uncertainties, all this doubt,

To know love, to have a normal childhood, to know what family life’s all about,

To just but have a feel of what people mean when they talk about cookout,

Do you think there’s hope for me sir? If you could, would you help me out?

Is there something out there for me? Is my entire life just a total washout?

Is there any chance that someday there is going be a turnabout,

In the societies attitude towards me or things will remain like this throughout?
Have you ever in your life considered becoming a volunteer?

Or doing something to ease my problems and my fear?

Like giving out the old clothes you haven’t worn since yesteryear?

In whatever state, they’ll be good enough for me to wear,

Or just spending time with me, simply lending me your ear,

Sometimes all I need is to feel like someone holds me dear,

That in whatever state, someone cares and will always be near,

To give me hope to hold on even when my pain is so severe.
It’s not my wish to live like this, circumstances dictate,

If only it were possible to change the hand of fate,

I would not be in the streets with no one to educate,

At the risk of contracting diseases with no one to vaccinate,

Dying of curable diseases with no one to medicate,

At the mercies of perverts my innocence to violate,

Robbed of dignity while my suffering you underestimate,

If only you could understand, if only you could relate.

If only you could see my world through my eyes,

Then you could know how I feel when you despise,

You could know much I dread seeing another sunrise,

Knowing my daytime demons will yet again arise,

And I will relive the pains of yesterday without any choice,

Oh how I wish that someone would hear my cries,

That I didn’t have to live looking forward to my demise,

That someday life will be kind to give me a reason to rejoice.

©MAINA PETER

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