My abode was not built by my own two hands
It was erected by the noble hands of labs, in the 1920s
I make caffeined, bitter black water for the over worked businessman: who pushes arrogance
so that I may sleep
My time spent manifests itself into red norishment
from a white-light shuttle
free of breathable sunlight but abundant of it in edible from

There are stickers on my apples
trees tattooed with chemicals
that find themselves everywhere
plastic freckles on the trunks of their mothers
or returning into plastic fossils
Embraced by the place in which it came

Stickers on Apples:
so much effort for something
so
sweetly
simple

The colour of love is Red.
It's thick like blood,
****, powerful, sinister.
Once you get it you need it to survive.

The colour of love is Blue.
It's like the sky,
Gentle, smooth, enlightening.
Wide, it can't be contained,
It only contains.

The colour of love is Purple.
It's like a bandaid,
Fun, mysterious, bold.
Covers and helps the healing process,
But hurts you when it is removed.

The colour of love is Green.
It's like a tree,
Free-spirited, fresh, youthful.
It gives life, food, norishment,
It only survives if you feed it.

The colour of love is Pink.
It's like a pair of high heal shoes,
Girly, happy, funny.
Elevating, increasing, aching,
Tall enough to be notice and to be ignored.

The colour of love is Yellow.
It's like the sun,
Bright, beaming, it stands out.
The bigger it is the more you see it,
And the closer you get the more you get burnt.

The colour of love is Orange.
It's like a good laugh,
Surprising, uncontrolable, ugly.
Once you start it's hard to stop.
It's addictive you yern for the feeling.

The colour of love is White and Black.
It's like ying and yang,
Needs to be balanced in order to exist.
Impossible to be live without and equally impossible to live with.
It's not a colour, can't be described.
                     ~Gabbriella with 2 b's~

Seperate from societies norm we mingle on the streets.
We live in tents, cars, doorways, many sleep on the concrete.
In towns, cities, ghettos, amoung regular folk to societies elite.
We notice anger, fear, disgust on the faces that pass us by.

Every so often a civilian stops to lend a much needed helping hand.
Offering items for norishment, warmth, pets, showing compassion, they seem to understand.
More often its the police with a complaint telling us to disband.
We move on spoiling someone elses day for the space we occupy.

Some of us are lost, alone, mentally ill, no family that gives a ****.
Drug addicts, alcoholics, displaced vets, regular people who lost it all to a scam.
Children, runaways, women who were abused, some don't care, some with plans.
Visible, yet feeling invisible we help one another minute by minute barely getting by.

I helped dozens of homeless people today just like I do everyday.
My chioces are lost in the time it takes to survive and help others along the way.
I can't complain as I have God to help me to make it through each day.
He gives me strength, comfort and peace as people pass unable to look me in the eye.

The feeling that comes over me when I give to someone like me...
Humble comes to mind, so does joy; only when I give do I feel truly free.
That is when I feel at one with God and totally 100% right with me.
Being homeless is ******* ones spirit; the pain I see often makes me want to cry.

As the days became years I see that God has a purpose for me here.
Sometimes I wonder what it is other times it's perfectly clear.
I find I do a lot better when I keep the Good Book near.
I praise the Lord, I read his word, I speak his name, I look people in the eye.

There's no denying the need that falls upon people when we're out here.
I'm doing my best to help open people's eyes and make our plight very clear.
Fact is most of us really don't want to live like this...we see alot, live in fear.
The mind very powerful, it feeds the soul with what it sees most it does not deny.

When people look at us with hate, fear, all things foul and without concern for souls.
Takes our hope, self worth leaving emptiness where we may have once been whole.
Products of our environment we get stuck for lack of eyes that see out of this hole.
I pray everyday that each one of us finds the love we need and gives us wings to fly.

.