Life on the Streets

Probably the people on the street know better than the people at home.

Every day I wake up

In my concrete bed

To the sounds of traffic and people

Going around in my head

Many a time they trip on me

They curse me and they go

I pity them always

As to forgive

They do not know

I wake up in filth

Sometimes in mud

To get a clean bed I wish

But I always nip that in the bud

Time and again I am woken

By people in Khaki and brown

They kick me they wake me

They always push me down

Every time I wonder

Why they don’t sleep like others

But I push that away and focus

Once again I think ‘How

Am I going to sleep right now?’

 

Looking around I see

People and the clothes they wear

Give me headaches so bad

That sometimes I swear

I pity them all the time

For at least I do not

Face a daily dilemma

To choose this one or not

I am content with the one I own

Keeps me warm even though

For me it was not sown

Many a time do I see

People with clothes

Even lesser than me

I offer them my cloak

Though shredded and torn

I feel it will help better

Than the scraps they have worn

 

 

I see them walk by

Attention not wavering

From the cellphones they carry

I always wonder how

They never tarry

They always talk

Even with no one near

Yet they never stop

Even while they walk

The stress of their jobs

Already have affected

Their sight and speech

Thank God I am not afflicted

Believe it or not

There are also a few

Who buy coffee

And gulp it down hot

That their throats don’t burn

Amaze me, and watching them

Makes my stomach churn

 

Yet for all their habits

For all the peculiar ways

I still yearn to get

Away from the sun’s rays

A place where I can sleep

Without being pushed

Like a shepherd does to sheep

To get a hot meal

And eat it in peace

I get in my heart a warm feel

When I think of my parents

Long have they gone

Yet I can’t help but yearn

For the future is not in stone

Anything can happen

But not that it might

I can feel in my heart

That things will be alright

Still no point to complain

No matter in how much pain

I am always on my feet

For such is life on the streets.

12.08.16

Author's Note

This was totally random.... and please let it slide if it's crappy.. I was just bored.