A Poem About Being Homeless
by Julie Webster
The concrete is cold
The wind is worse
When I sleep on the street
I hold on to my purse
Not that there’s anything in it !
It’s been empty for so many years
But today I was surprised to find
Instead of its usual crumbs and tears
I saw there a twenty dollar bill
When was it put there, by whom and why
Was this really for me?
I started to cry.
I started to think
of what it would buy
Thinking of buying anything
was hard to try
A bag without holes?
Shoes from Goodwills?
A muffin with coffee?
Or refill my pills?
God bless the good soul
Who brightened my day
Don’t worry ’bout me
I’ll be ok
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