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