Street Dwellers Poem by Angela Wybrow

With their faces all lined and weather beaten,
It could be days since these folk have last eaten.
These city dwellers; these rough sleeping rovers,
Have resorted to searching rubbish bins for leftovers.

Through the city streets, they aimlessly roam;
Sometimes asking people for the bus fare home.
Refused money, some will swear in your face;
The streets can seem such a threatening place.

Some of them don’t exactly turn on the charm,
When they ask for money, and grab your arm.
Some smile, courteously, bidding you a good day,
Despite things not having quite gone their way.

Some attempt to stop people passing them by,
But most people still do, however hard they try.
Asking for spare change, they repeat their plea;
Some, passers-by, purposely, choose not to see.

They may sleep in a shop doorway, or under a bridge,
Where the temperature is often as cold as a fridge.
The days and nights seem to go on for almost ever,
Especially during the cold and wet, wintry weather.

These people are all different; they are not all the same.
Some are uneducated; some have letters after their name.
Some of them are outgoing, while others are very shy;
Some of them are trustworthy, while others are very sly.

We know very little about these people’s past lives;
They may have left behind children, husbands or wives.
This group of individuals are so unique and so diverse,
But, for them, their living conditions could not be worse.

All they need is someone to give them a second chance;
Someone who gives them more than just a second glance.
Nobody lives their life on the streets, purely by choice.
It is time that they were listened to, and given a voice.