deepundergroundpoetry.com

homeless

the night's
cold is
apparently
unaware
of what
it is
doing
to me,

it is
creeping
onto
my skin,
finding
its way
to
my bones,

and by
morning,
i may be
as cold
as the
night was,
unless the
sun can
save me.

Written by goodwolf1966 (jimmy)
Published
Author's Note
i have been homeless, i know a little more about the subject than i wanted to.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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