i see them everyday
                                                             everywhere i am
                                                             with their lives
                                                             strapped onto their backs
                                                             onto their bikes
                                                             packed into stolen grocery
                                                             carts with hungry animals
                                                             leashed and pulled behind them-
                                                             i see them every day
                                                             and want to feed them
                                                             give them money
                                                             give them a drink of water
                                                             give them some hope
                                                             give them same brotherhood
                                                             hold them in my arms
                                                             shower the with blessings
                                                             and love…but i can’t because
                                                             i am one of them
                                                             and my life is packed
                                                             and strapped and pulled
                                                             along behind me  every day
                                                             and everyday we’re stealing sugar
                                                             stealing fruit and salt
                                                             and we are hungry for brotherhood
                                                             hungry for the arms of anyone                                                           
                                                             to hold us and tell us the truth
                                                             tell us why after fighting for peace
                                                             fighting for freedom and the pursuit
                                                             of happiness for us all…
                                                             we really-really want to know
                                                             and want to be more than homeless
                                                             more than invisible and hopeless
                                                             and want to feel like we still belong
                                                             somewhere to someone for something
                                                             but we can’t even get a word of kindness
                                                             can’t get even a good morning
                                                             can’t even get a dime outside a church
                                                             can’t get a job, a place to rest our weary
                                                             war torn bodies without being chased away,
                                                             shunned or attacked and arrested…
                                                             everyday…everywhere we are
                                                             every time we look around
                                                             and we see how we are
                                                             and beg for forgiveness
                                                             for becoming what we’ve become….

and when it rains we get wet
and we get filthier and we are
soaked to the bone…huddle
under bridges and overpasses
squat in doorways of abandoned
buildings in our filthy hoodies
dirty jeans and broken tennies
we get wet and we get sick
and somebody always dies
and their animals howl
at the world then starve to death.
and there are few places to hide
where people don’t chase you away…
dirty! filthy! unclean…get away!
and when you’re cold and wet
it’s easy to become enraged
when you are only trying to survive
trying to keep from slashing
your wrists or jumping in front
of a moving train like bobby did
but hunger and rage keeps you alive
because it takes to much energy.
so hope comes in bottle form
courage from a point a paper
and a pill…and it’s only then
that we can bury our dead
bury our rage and bury everything
but our courage to survive.

raven stuck his head out
from under my hat…looked around
hey buddy they cut down my tree
destroyed my nest and scattered
my family
he was filthy and some of his feathers
were missing…he limped out
looked behind his back
hey buddy they were trying to kill me
they chased me with clubs
while i was eating a rotting fish
they kids threw stones at me
let’s kill it!  they screamed
while their fathers laughed
and helped them find the rocks
blood was caked on a wound
on the ravens neck
hey buddy
can i stay under your hat
i’m scared and hungry
and now i’m nestless
hey buddy
can you spare a bit of flesh


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