The Only Home I Know

Dusty doorways, hid from view.

Sheltering under starry skies.

Wrapped in thrown out blankets,

found in the trash.

Looking in dustbins, for scraps of food

This is far from the life I led.

 Far from the opulent heady days

Those days, when a warm bed  and being fed were over-rated and understated.

When mass media was my daily bread.

But here I am now destitute, past refute

Rebutted and undone.

Nights of abuse, misused by lost youth

Frozen most nights, fearful thoughts

Longing for the great life I once led.

And I watch each passing stranger.

Hoping that one will be my saviour

Lifting me from daily danger.

Giving, me a chance to sleep

And return to the life I once led

Happily sleeping in a nice warm bed.

The Beautiful Music of Words