Yes,I'm Homeless

                                                                                                                                               

-LittleFawn

(The Tale of Homeless

The train bellows, a beast of steel,
Its roar a tremor my bones can feel.
I wake with a jolt on the cold, cracked ground,
My dreams dissolve with the clanging sound.

The sky above, vast and cruel,
The floor below, a beggar’s school.
I dream of more—of a home, a name,
Of warmth, of love, of escaping this shame.

But here I am.
Yes, I’m homeless.

I rise, though my limbs protest,
A crumpled life, with no time for rest.
Through piles of waste, I search and pray,
For scraps that might see me through the day.

A banquet of crumbs, a feast denied,
Luck's mocking grin cuts deep inside.

I sigh as clouds drift by in their spree,
When two shadows trot—my family of three.
Blacky and Whitey, my faithful pair,
Street dogs, ragged but beyond compare.

They wag their tails; their love is pure,
They don’t see my scars, my life unsure.
For them, I am more than this empty mess.
Yes, I’m homeless.

A child approaches, her gaze tender,
Eyes alight with innocent splendor.
She leaves me biscuits, no words to share,
A fleeting angel with ribbons in her hair.

I whisper thanks, though the words feel frail,
As we wander to the park, my loyal trail.

In the corner, boys sneer and smoke,
Their laughter sharp, their taunts a cloak.
They mock my dogs, they throw their stones,
And I shield my friends, their only home.

The stones find me, as fists soon follow,
Pain blooms deep, fierce and hollow.
I crumble, bow beneath their blows,
My ribs now cages for anguish to grow.

I clutch my side and limp away,
Another wound, another day.
The world sees me as less—a shadow, a guess.
Yes, I’m homeless.

Through blurred vision, I see her again,
The little girl, free of pain.
She skips to cross the bustling street,
When I hear the roar of speeding defeat.

The truck looms large, the air turns still,
I leap, propelled by sheer instinct and will.
Her life preserved, my end ordained,
The cost of kindness, the price of pain.

As the world fades, I feel no fear,
Only warmth from her grateful tear.
A purpose found in this final breath,
A fleeting triumph in the face of death.

Once, I was lifeless, worthless, unseen,
Trapped in a world so cold, so mean.
But in her eyes, I found my spark,
A light that pierced through endless dark.

I was homeless, yes.
But in this final act, I confess:
Life’s meaning isn’t bound by gold,
It’s in the love we dare to hold.

And though my story ends in strife,
Perhaps I’ve given her a better life.

So remember me not as less,
But as more.
Though homeless, I lived with depth,
And gave my soul until my last breath.