I see you, yes I do.

         Beneath your feet, when you walk down the street.

            You me, see, try to ignore when I'm sleeping around the door.

        You see me, you don't want to, you try not to.

        You don't me, see in your pretty city.

        You think I don't belong.

        You don't seem to care.

        I am there.

        I go on singing my song.

        I don't have a home.  I'm all alone.


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Lesa Gay's picture

Hi my young friend,

I loved this one and your title jogs my memory of some of my own I have not yet brought here. I have lived in two gambling towns now that are constantly closing shelters. It drives me crazy because on quarter of a days income for them would keep a shelter open for a year!

I hope your day is going well.