In tents and sheds I make my home,
Eating scraps from the trash alone.
Washing in a park bathroom sink,
Clothes stained, ripped, torn, on the brink.

Judged by others, deemed lesser, so glum,
Branded as worthless, a dirty old bum.
But within me lies a spirit, strong and true,
Hoping for a brighter day, anew.
© noeljpotterjr