Emerging from this makeshift shelter,
I look about at the wicked cold day,
Wondering how long I will survive in this bleak world.

I have tussled with my demons,
Made peace with myself,
And accepted my lot in life.

My ragged clothing, barely covering me,
Warmth only a dream,
Decent food a luxury,
Knowing my family as I am now,
An impossibility.

The shrill jeering of children as I pass by,
The looks from strangers,
Judging me in my degradation.
None realizing that I was once They.

I could justify feeling superior,
When I had a home, a family, a job.
A sense of security and a mind and body unbroken.

And now, watching from the other side,
I wonder why I had so little compassion,
So litte empathy, so little mercy.
Just as They do now.