Homeless

You would rather
Eat dead animals
Than acknowledge i exist
Ketchup on lips
Grease on fingers
 
For any realisation
Would spoil the enjoyment
How could i compare
To succulent dead meat
I am alive
 
Walk past me  
Gorge on your food
Why wou;d i matter
A scruff on the street
With a paper cup
 
Unkempt human garbage
Should be washed away
Not left in plain sight
A little clean up
Would help with your digestion
 
Close your eyes
Give a wide berth
Scurry on quickly
Before you catch
Any form of disease
 
I am a reminder
Of what could be
A nasty stain
Society would rather
Disinfect permanently