Wednesday, 28 December 2016

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.




Copyright © 2014 Deborah M. Hodgetts