I gave her a cup of coffee to warm her soul

“But where is my tomorrow?” she cried.

My jeans dry on tree branches blown

by the wind to dry as do my tears.

My shoes are worn from walking the streets

of desperation, despair and heartless rain.

Reality of living day to day is now my norm

loneliness is my only companion as I strive

to find an open food kitchen or a spare bed.

I have been locked out of life and have no key

I carry all I own on my back as it spills on a trail

of hopelessness and searching for what I have lost

I’m invisible, masked from vision of those who walk by

Stuffing fast food in yawning mouths, leaving crumbs

Why don’t they see me, why don’t they extend hands?

The least little kindness will help me stand once again.

I thought

Now I know

Home is not made of roofs

Or blue-painted walls

Or beds and wooden doors.

It is made of you 

And me.