I am ashamed that your dirty hands,
make me flinch.
I know you didn’t start this way.
Foaming at the mouth.
Your twitches formed with emotional breaks,
and physical beatings.
Exiled from a place
that was never really home.
now your bed,
on this wet and lonely street.
Bringing more comfort
than a mother’s hands ever did.
You were wronged.
Failed – time and again.
My heart sinks every time I walk by,
and see your broken shoes,
I feel burdened by my full stomach.
I feel ashamed inside of my clean clothes.
That I just walk by.