NUXIIITHIRTEEN IX

Hopelessness

Bus shelters become home
I see them all the time
Or they walk in the rain alone
It is hard to see people turned to stone

Gardner has tent city
Some of them mean and gritty
That's another place they go
Even when it starts to snow

Some will just travel on the bus
While "regular" people make a fuss
Thinking only of the self
Feel their money gives them wealth

Ally ways are another spot
Some get inside acting like a crack pot
To the shelters my city holds
Helps some not to fold

Doesn't really matter the weather
Most street folk walk light like a feather
Quiet, stealth mode they can act
While some may stab in the back

I have seen many kinds of people
My ex saw a dead body at a steeple
Right in from of a church
Dead at the steps that was his perch