Everybody walks by me or at times on top of me.
My glasses smeared with dirt I can barely see.
My hair so long it got.
I feel like in this world I’m just a number just a dot.
All I have to my name is this tied black sack.
I tie it up in case they come back.
And they mock and jeer and steel my only last few bits.
All I can hear is people whispering about me, about ‘ where he
always sits’.
I see things in black and white, the colour of my world now gone.
And I hear the words of the streets of London how sweet she
sings this song.
Everythings a blur,
But is she truly listening to the words and have they impacted her
But when I slowly give up I see a bright yellow jacket.
And I drown out the noise on this busy street, but nobody makes
a racket.
A little girl approaches with a twenty pound note.
My bones and muscle numb from hunger and cold, I don’t even
own a coat.
Her little smile and big blue eyes lifts my dampened spirit,
And then she shakes my hand and looks at me as if I count and I
finally hear it.
I nod my head and force a smile underneath my pain and hurt.
Her little look and words that makes me feel like I am no longer
dirt.
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of
London,
I’ll show you something that will make you change your mind.