One foot follows the other.
The wind’s a biting chill.
My coat’s threadbare and worn to lint
And my mind will not stay still.
To a place that houses homeless.
That shelter from the storm
For a short respite where a body might
Feel the wealth of warm.
But, cold is a constant companion
For we who drift through time …
Judged by they … the priviledged few …
Who deem us riddled with crime.
Out on the street before sunup.
Back when the sun leaves the sky.
Too proud to beg the cost of an egg …
Yet, so hungry you just want to cry.
Yeah … one foot follows the other.