Homeless

Isolated
Surrounded by deep
Empty stares

Alone
Survived again
Another night

Free
To do anything
Except what I want

Medicating
The fears
The memories

Running
To stay alive
One more night

False brave face
Engaging
For a meal

Angry
Bitter honest burning
Tears

Hidden
Shame

Utter chaos
Broken

I want it to do more than break my heart when I talk with them. I want to find answers and build bridges. Do you ever wish you could just get to the bottom of whatever it was that put them out on the street, get out your repair kit, patch it up and say, "ok, all better now"? I do. Some of them have moms and dads and grandmas who are still praying for them to be safe again tonight. Some of them are there because no one ever prayed that they would be safe, and they can't believe in their wildest imagination, that anyone ever would. I'd be tough as nails too...when someone tried to talk to me...if it were me. Then, I'd cry myself to sleep when no one was looking.