.  
 
                                   i s
                            t              h
                  ­    a                          o
                h               ­                      m
         w                                                  e
            ­       is it where you live?
                   a room, p e r h a p s,
                   a house o n  a  street
                   w h a t   i s    h o m e  
                   when you are home,
                   b u t      y o u    f e e l
                                                            home­less
                                                            ¿

That pound means more to her
Than it does to me
She's got to feed her family
A family of three

****** by the government
And ******* by society
This is what it's like
To live in Blighty

They've come here for a better life
A second chance
And a chance to survive
No they're out
On their own
Just like a dog
Without its bone

****** by the government
And ******* by society
This is what it's like
To live in Blighty

It's **** or be killed
The rich feed the rich
While the poor scape and beg
All alone
On a cardboard bed
No change for you
No not today
I need my money
Sorry love
Not unless you accept contactless
Or Apple Pay

****** by the government
And ******* by society
This is what it's like
To live in Blighty

He was asking for something,
I took out an earbud to hear what.
He was born ten years after me
But looked ten years older.
He told me I'd never been in jail,
Never been homeless.
He asked if I knew
How he knew.
I said, "Good guesses."
He told me I looked different from other people,
Said there was no fear in my eyes.
He was proud of knowing so much about me.
But there was more he did not know,
Such as what makes me different
And why there is no fear in my eyes.

The first rays of sun falling over
the pots kept on the windowsill
I can hear the flowers stretching
out after a nice, cosy sleepy fill.

"Good morning little ones", I wish
while watering them for the day,
I can sense them glee, "You too,
Mr. Nice Guy", I imagine them say.

Getting ready for a bath, I could feel
cold droplets of water splashing
over my body. My new soap
of lemongrass, smells refreshing.

The toaster tings with two pieces out,
And a bowl of milk with fruit loops.
Getting dressed for work, tying the tie,
Slipping the leather belt through the hoops.

A fresh pair of socks near my shoes,
so shiny, I could see my reflection,
I think I forgot to comb my hair, but
I am perfect with this imperfection.

Tap my car remote and it unlocks,
I sit in it comfortably, rev it up a little
Start driving on the road, straight on
but the distance seems abysmal.

It suddenly starts to darken in front,
The chills hitting me suddenly,
I wake up from my dream, still
in dark, feeling cold and in agony.

Upon a bed of newspapers lay a creased red cotton shirt.
No fixed abode
Dirt appears on dirt
Grind teeth.
Got any change said man with can in hand.
Card and blanket with dog curled underneath.
Comatosed body rigid from a fix.
Brandished **** and theif.
Patchwork multicoloured polyester tents adorn a high end shop.

It was a night like this
Back in old T. O.
When a woman froze to death
In the cold and frigid snow

I passed her in the morning
I saw her laying on the grate
With all she owned around her
I did not then know her state

It was early nineteen eighty one
The polar winds did blow
A woman froze to death that night
In the cold and frigid snow

It was right outside the local "Y"
The doors were locked up tight
She lay upon the heating grates
To make it through the night

Passers by ignored her
They just looked away instead
In the morning when I passed her
I did not know that she was dead

I think back on that image
Of her laying with her stuff
I ask myself "when will we stop"
"and say enough's enough"

The homeless are not garbage
Disposable, their not
A woman froze to death outside
Is this the best we've got?

A woman froze to death one night
And no one seemed to care
Life goes on with her now gone
As though she was not there

Like the woman back on Church Street
In the cold Toronto snow
The image now is frozen
Like the woman in T.O.