Old or young they lay
Healthy or diseased
They have nothing
No home, no backyard
The streets are not home
The street is cold and hard
Those without homes sleep
On streets unswept, they go undreaming
Cold and hungry
No money or hope
The streets are unforgiving
But humans are more so
Concrete and asphalt
Tar and steel rods
The streets are unmoved
By pleas or prayers
To men or gods
They exist because they are
The dreams of a hungry child
If realized would not be large
Filled with hope and fulfillment
Covered in happiness
And joyful hearts
But the streets are unmoved
