Swimming upstream through the laden air my face was burned and no one cared.
My soggy shoes that hurt my feet and run down pants that shred on street were but amusement to the mob. I cried inside and did my job.
This town I once did make my home had left me now and sore alone.
Nightmares came and walked with me. I threw my bones down 'neath a tree.
Blades of grass stood stiff with ice while I kept my eyes peeled for police.
Pounds of weight I brought with me had worn me now to the last degree.
Not much rest before a squad and trundled off on sticky sod.
Survival skills can bring you far but still I'd rather have a car.
Comments
renderedtruth | April 16, 2009 - 04:47
This something that I wrote after spending the night in the city. I have been homeless off and on my whole life. My mother was an abuse victim with mental illnesses and she was also an artist and single caregiver to her two children.
I am sorry that I did not think to comment here before these 80 views took place. I see here that it could be misread as a put-down of the hardships that I endure in this true telling of an adventure in spending a night outdoors with the elements causing me discomfort.
I apologize to anyone who may be upset with me for my insensitive portrayal. It is meant to be a satire of futility.
'persistence' has been one of my character traits and I feel pretty comfortable in a homeless environment.
I know it is hell to be without a home and no place to turn for help except the shelters. I am still living with my father in the family dwelling that I have been with since I was born.
My father is my best friend a warm hearted brother who will love you to the end.