#WritcoPoemPrompt9
A stolen morsel more precious than gold,
A stolen shirt to keep out the cold,
There is no price to hunger,
There is no price to shelter,
There is no price to kindness,
Yet there is coldness,
In these streets,
Surrounded by the beats,
Of buskers
And panhandlers
Standing around with cardboard signs
Along the concrete paradigms
As capitalists trip over homeless
The fruits of their ruthlessness
As they argue that life is a privilege
This is our lineage
There is no price to hunger
There is no price to shelter
There is no price to kindness
There is a price to food and cloths
There is a price to houses
There is a price