Living On The Street

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Living On The Street

 By Paul McCann

Staring down into the coffee inside a paper cup ,

somebody heard what I was thinking , so I just shut up .

I put my thoughts away inside the too hard box outside

the school of hard knocks where I had learnt to swallow my pride  .     

I sipped down the coffee and flipped the lid into the air

and landed like a skid kid upon the cold street out there  .

There was frost on the pavement where you could easily slip

Into the back of an ambulance with a broken hip .

I heard an old man say , I’m half the man I used to be

He came face to face with fate one night down a dark alley

So he lived with the bottle and a glass from that day on

and he slept at night in a skip where the sun never shone  .

Living on the street where the long shadows walk in the dark

around the corners and through the gates of the city park .

Don’t share your thoughts with anyone about who is to blame,

skid kids are in the shadows and nobody knows their name .

Don’t throw stones or break your bones it's better to walk away .

Life is fragile , all sides up living on the streets today .

There’s a place to keep the peace , where the skid kids like to stay  .

    Light a candle for all those living on the street today .

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