Survival On The Streets Poem by Andrew Matthews

Dirty grey city
Pavements shine with puddles
Cold wind biting at your face
Joining in the bus stop race
The rain as unforgiving as the wind
Makes you long for the coat that you binned.

The people in doorways know all about
the pain and despair of life on the streets
The cold and the wind and the rain
destroy your soul then your valour.
Cruel gangs walking about
kicking your head, stomping your home to the ground.

Some survive, some don't
Some get out, some don't
Beyond poverty, there is no level
that life cannot stoop to.
Clothes sodden and dirty
and shoes that are fit for no one.

16/01/2002
16: 09pm