This is me lying face down on the ground,
broken, wasted, dismissed,
the life draining out of me.
But I am still alive, only just.
Memories of you waft in and out of my mind.
Your face, your hair, your eyes …
A smile dances around my mouth, despite myself.
Have I got enough strength to get off the ground?
Go looking for you,
could I find you?
Would you want me to?
Footsteps hasten in my direction, slow down
and then move away, suddenly.
I guess I am not exactly a pretty sight…
That’s what years of living on the streets will get you.
Broken, wasted someone’s punchbag.
But who cares about that.
If only I could find you,
just to see you, and know you won’t twist your face
away from me.
I could rise up, off the ground.
Dedicated to the many homeless men and women in my neighbourhood. May life start looking up for you.
Thanks for stopping by, S