Written in 1999 by Faithwalker, aka Jeff Strong

Here I lie under the dock of a warehouse

Huddled, wrapped in plastic gleaned from a dumpster

The cold east wind assails my hiding place.

Hunger gnaws at my body for I have no money for food;

The frozen rain dangles from the planks above me as translucent teeth;

How did I get here?

Cold! so very cold, but I will survive,

For I will not forfeit my life with out a fight.

The shelters are full and I was late for the missions meal;

So I lay under the dock clinging to what warmth I can, and wait;

For the ‘morrow and another day.

People creep by in their heated chariots

Others scurry to the bus;

All are headed for the warmth of home and hearth and hot food and laughter and a warm bed.

And for this I do hope……