Oh! They exist!
They see you walking by
They stare at you with eyes run dry
They try to tell you their sorry tale
If you’d listen
If you’d only look their way

(But do you know they exist?)

Of course you see them
But what do you do? You scorn at them!
‘They caused it for themselves didn’t they?
And they are the government’s problem!’
I hear you say
You’d rather just walk ahead and look away
And hope they don’t come in your way.

(Do you want them to exist?)

They just sit around and have nothing else to do
Counting coins and the hours too
They’re all over the streets
No better than thieves
Dressed in stench-filled rags
Oh! God forbid if they touched your hand!
They face the harsh weather with hands and feet bare
But the fact is none of us care.

The homeless, the poor, the downtrodden
They live amongst their own
Even in our idealistic and perfect world
They will live and die Untouched and Unknown.

Like a piece of paper
Fluttering in the wind
Sometimes dead
Alive at other times
But something stopping it from flying away
Ensuring it lay down…flat.

Wanting to reach out
Fly and go places
Let the wind take it
With it
Not knowing where it would be taken
But willing anyhow
Its raring to go
Little does it realize that
This new freedom might bring with it
New dangers lurking in the corners.

But the tiny little thing…wants to breathe
And do what it wants to do
Feels suppressed and frustrated at not being allowed to
Its all so evident
The folds and creases on the paper
Tell the whole story.

Perhaps the paper belonged to someone…
And now has been discarded
Abandoned to its fate
It’s a useless piece of paper
All alone
Still waiting to be free.