Town is buzzing but for me it is another lonely night on the street.
Begging for food or some money to find shelter is my only treat.
As I am reaching out to people they see me it’s like I am not really there.
Soup runs and charity organisations are the only ones who seem to care.
Turning to alcohol and drugs can be another way to help me cope.
Praying and sleeping in a church ground could give a bit of hope.
Spending another night in this concrete jungle can feel like hell.
If a tourist gave me money for bed and breakfast id be doing very well.
I once had money and a family but through life’s events it just fell apart.
To see my children’s faces as they pass me by really breaks my heart.
It could be a doorway or park bench as I am retiring for the night.
Feeling afraid in the dark but getting lots of comfort from the shining moon light.