Shelter

Shelter

 

Seek shelter

Away from the

Helter Skelter

Of my mind

Too often unkind

Meeting strangers

Asking for money

My pride is my badge

It’s just for tea

Not for drugs

Do you think I am a mug

My cup does not runneth over

Am not in possession

Of a four leaf clover

The luck of the Irish

My arse

My luck is a cardboard box

And food that is scarce

I don’t belong

In a world that does not care

That cannot distinguish

My pavement body

On the footpath

Do the math

Two euro to feed me

Don’t heed me

Look away

Consider

Am I worth

Two euro

Or shall I wither?

 

By

 

Adele Leahy