The Hope for Home
By Arthur Yip
)Photo by Alessandro Oliverio from Pexels
Lying at the corner of the street
In the darkness of the night,
Lying at the corner out of sight,
Away from all street lights
See that corner over there? There is no one there;
Who’s there? Lying at the corner of the street
Heavy clothes and heavy breaths,
Bumping into each other,
Fumes are over the air.
Someone stands out from the crowd;
Shrouded in mystery...
He surrounds himself with plenty,
but in him is empty.
We enjoy hot drinks,
He washes in cold sinks.
We have the comfort of our beds at night,
He suffers from people’s sight.
“Move! Move! Clear the area!”
Out again alone,
Heavy steps and heavy breaths,
With nowhere call home,
His treasures are gone.
Cockroaches no longer friends;
Beer bottles no longer with them;
Broken needles strewn about the bin;
What a fearful way to end.
Why do we avoid them?
Aren’t they devoid of anything?
Why do we think them as needless?
When homeless is their name.
Stop asking why, go forward and say ‘hi’
“Don’t touch me! I’m out of here”
“You have nothing to fear”
I have something to tell, and this is not my hell…
“This is my story, would you care to hear?”
The past; the present; our future,
Shorten our range, so be my train
Spare a change and don’t be strange
Then we can all make a lovely change.