The stars hung low that night To hail the girl who sat on the rooftop Of a filthy run down cottage At the end of the 'Homeless Women' lane
Her knees were scraped with callused fingernails That bled against the chips on the wall she had climbed To watch those pretty little things shine And sigh with wonder against the solitary night
The emptiness in her stomach growled But her wild eyes devoured the moon Maybe the night resembled her tattered black dress And stars were just despicable holes in the fabric of sky
Greasy auburn hair hung limp against her skimpy frame Not many would find beauty on that haunted face But there was a prepossessing in her pain The way she never truly had things to lose So she loved everything we seldom bother to.
It was a cold night on a full moon The homeless girl breathed her last atop a red roof No one remembers a slovenly girl with wild eyes A homeless girl who died in her true home, Her personal paradise.
Maybe she was only fifteen But not many can claim They've worn constellations on their body Maybe she found her peace And landed the stars while we were asleep Maybe the way she died Is the way most of us fail to live Maybe we should love the way A homeless girl once did.