The sun is shining
But I can’t see through the trees
There is a snowstorm coming
That looks like a heavy, black fog
They look down upon me
They think I sit here because I am strange
Some won’t even look into my eyes
But wonder what is my plight
I stand on the corner every day at noon
With a sign, “Will Work for Food”
The afternoon goes by and night approaches again
My hunger has left me for yet another day
I retire to my cardboard box in the anandoned building
Sleeping is hard for me because I begin to hear sounds
Unlike the day, I hear loud noises
Inside the building, so many peoplePacked in like cemetery plots
Hearing children cry, I turn my head
Mothers wrap their babies in tattered blankets
Young men and and women with dirty needles
Heroin is their only friend and worst enemy
Bringing them to this low place
How did I this become my life?
I have tried all I know to escape the continuous poverty
No address for welfare, no money to start a new life
God took my family from me
Mother, father, two sisters and one brother
They disappeared in the night
As the firemen put out the flames
At 14, my life and stability up in smoke
Here I lay, trying to shut out out the noise
Trying not to see what lies before me
I am young; a good person
Yet they glare like I am a freak
If I had only been in my bed sleeping
That hellish night
I wouldn’t be here trying to close my eyes
Only to wake to a brand new day
Again my sign reads, “Will Work For Food”
Will I regain my own dignity?
Today, will you change my life?



Joined March 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Concerning homeless youth

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