Campers and Street People - Poem of the Streets

We camp for differing reasons
and with different methods each.
Some hide away, like me,
others lay out openly, brazenly,
upon lawns and sidewalks nightly.
Avoiding the shelters each evening,
seeking some place to hide
either from the criminal activities
or to indulge in them.

We are the street people,
those Society tossed aside somehow.
Some broken physically or mentally,
others seeking to be broke,
some just lacking any funds.
Our bedrolls each tell tales
of where we have lain,
scars from hard, cold concrete
or leaves and grass stains.

Some have much better gear
than others make do with.
But regardless of our equipment
we spend the nights outside
either warm, just right, shivering
as we try getting sleep
despite the Law hunting us
to evict us from places
we have staked as ours.

Be it a sleeping bag,
dirty blankets, tarps or tents
we try to find comfort
if just for a bit
each night we remain out
away from those darker places
(or ones too well lit)
for our personal comfort tonight,
as we take our rest.

Look down upon us carefully,
for many are stuck here
not just by their choosing.
Some are indeed as thought
drug users, criminals, or boozers,
but a few are not.
I am of that latter,
unable to obtain gainful employment,
denied benefits other receive easily.

Try not to judge harshly
for you may join us
with a single bad day
being the only real difference
between your current safe home
and having to search daily
for a place to crash.
I am not kidding here,
it can happen that suddenly.

30September2013 - Dyfedd Rex