Street Life

Rough sleeper
This is not
How your life was begun
Not what was planned
For your mother’s son
What path do you follow
On life’s winding track
Your only possessions
The clothes on your back
Huddled in doorways
Prey to the cold
Your face lined and wrinkled
Though not all that old
Now night has ended
Forgetfulness gone
A new day of struggle
As you must
Move on

(Street life in a Welsh city)

©opusangelicus 2014

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