If I shut my eyes, they kick me out.
It's policy and man you do not nod off at the library,

They watch for it and
They steadfast about it,
No sleeping, no exceptions, rule on a rule
And it's cold like a mother-you- know-what outside.

So I dab a tiny bit of vinegar

From the packet I stole from the food court
Right at the bottom of my eye lid
And the sting jolts me, wakes me up with hard tears,
And questions- like how did I get this far down.

See I been up for 24,
There is nothing part time about being poor,
It's a full time gig and I'm working ******* all the don'ts.

Don't sleep here, don't beg,
Don't **** in my toilet, don't pick through my trash,
Don't complain, don't bother me,
Don't forget God loves us all.
God don't. God hates the poor

Look I know. I'm responsible for me.
I get it.
So I eat a half sandwich I found on the street,
And work on my mind.
And I learn tricks.
Like a pin in my shoe,
The nip it takes, the bite on my heel,
Keeps me awake and warm,
In the library.