We exploded
we, the ones loaded with the detritus
people like us
who sleep in the car ports
it takes all sorts.
We are the mixture
the fixture attached with no strings on the streets where nobody sings and poetry has no hope to be heard.
We are the slim pickings
the cruel kickings
doomed not to be seen
and if seen quickly forgotten cast out we're rotten
I've gotten used to it.
The feeling like ****
like I never belonged
like I don't even exist and some other things I don't like that I might have just missed.

You have seen us in doorways,down alleys with no where to go and you've gone
Not your problem
so long
But someone out there needs to take the lead, needs to find something to feed our aspirations,
Oh yes we still have those
***** faces
ragged clothes
Heaven knows we don't look great but some of us would like to take
part, even as an extra
feel some different texture
get some bread and honey
earn a little money
live a little
give a little back
is that asking too much?
Does nothing touch your heart
don't you think we need a part to play?

Or will you turn and go away
like yesterday
and the day before when you wore the same face
just another time
place.
We're in a dark place
but we too have the same face as the day before yesterday
and if nothing changes
it will stay the same way
just be another day
when we explode.