The Cry of Homelessness – Poetry

The sun rises and so do I
I look at the feast before me
One that exists only as a figment
Today will be like other days
I would leave the shore that is my home
With the plastic bottles that ensure my living
I would run after the rich man’s car
As fast as my wobbly legs can carry me
Raising my punctured plastic bottle to wash his windscreen
Hoping he would be generous enough to remunerate me
I would do this until the sun hides
My tired legs would then take me home
To the clean sand I would lay my head and The cool waves that would leave me cold
Thank goodness for the wrapper I saw in the waste!!
For it would keep me warm this night
“at least I ate today” I would think
As tears, my daily companion visits
I would pray as I always do, for the sun to rise without me following suit.