HOMELESSNESS
i was homeless once
I Was Homeless Once
I was homeless once—
not metaphor, but pavement,
the night’s breath stiff with diesel,
a borrowed coat that never quite closed.
The city’s lights were not for me,
they glittered for windows I could not enter,
for tables where bread was broken
without my name.
I learned the grammar of benches,
the syntax of doorways,
the long pause of hunger
that makes even silence ache.
And still, the body endures—
it finds a corner,
it waits for dawn,
it bargains with cold.
But there is another exile—
homeless in a palace without you.
Marble floors echo louder than alleys,
chandeliers mock with their excess of light.
Every room is furnished,
yet emptier than a street at 3 a.m.
The bed is wide,
but no voice answers the turning.
This homelessness of heart
is less spoken of,
yet more corrosive:
to be roofed, clothed, fed—
and still unsheltered.
I was homeless once,
and I survived.
But I would not wish
the palace-emptiness on anyone.
Better the cold stone
than the warm room
where no one waits.
.
I AM (Though None Perceive)
I am! Yet what I am, who comprehends?
My lifelines falter like a fading star.
I am the vessel where my torment ends,
Vestibular vertigo, near and far.
The dizzying world whose balance I have lost—
And yet I am—I live—though I am tossed
Into the tempest of dismissive eyes,
Into the churning sea of disbelief,
Where decades of authenticated cries
Find no harbour, no shore, no relief.
And all that's dear grows distant in the mist,
My Millie gone, my comfort ceased to exist.
I walk on fractured paths none understand,
Each step a trial through fibrous burning flame.
Authorities observe with folded hands,
Their coffers full, while I bear all the blame.
I labour through six days of ceaseless strain,
Yet cannot shake the shackles of this pain.
I long for centres where compassion dwells,
For quiet corners where truth might flourish still;
Instead, I find but empty, hollow shells
Of systems built to break, not heal or fill.
The medical reports pile high, unread,
While hunger gnaws beneath each sunset red.
If those who govern, those who claim to care
Choose wilful blindness as they watch me fall,
Why not complete what suffering laid bare?
A kinder end than no response at all.
The noose of neglect tightens day by day—
At least be honest as you turn away.
So let me lie where honesty prevails,
The earth below; above, Australian skies.
No more false promises or fairy tales,
Just peace at last when weary spirit flies.
What mercy is there in prolonged decay?
When swift release would end this cruel display
2 AM hunger pangs
Amidst the fields, the forests, and the streams,
Where once I roamed, a child of nature's dreams,
I see a sight that breaks my heart in two,
Abject poverty, homelessness, and hunger too.
The government stands by their eyes don't care,
Inaction and neglect, its cruellest affair,
In the city's alleys and darkened streets,
The homeless suffer, only pain at their feet.
Hunger, pain, and depression take their toll,
On those who cannot flee this endless hole,
And in the night, come whispers of suicide,
To end the pain, they can no longer hide.
And yet they rise each morning, with a will,
To face another day, and all that it will bring,
With a courage born of desperation, so strong,
A strength that nature's children have always known.
So let us not forget the homeless,
The poor and hungry, with pain in their soul,
For in their suffering, we see,
The toll that life can take, on the weakest and the bold.
And let us demand from those in power,
Action, not indifference, to this plight,
For in our collective silence, we see,
The cost of government inaction, day and night.