Once I had a family, a partner who loved me and a place to call my own.
I had a life with people who cared about me, but one by one they’ve gone.
What took all this away is as hard to say as it is to face.
It’s complicated, as life often is when it puts you in your place.
Let’s just say misfortune came to visit and eventually moved in.
His cousin, bad choices, also made himself a space to stay
and since then, they have been my shadows and refuse to go away.
As I lie on the cold concrete listening to the garbage trucks rumbling by
and count the few coins that I have, I wonder how much longer
I can survive this life I’ve built
without losing what little sanity I have left.
With hope as my mentor and optimism my only sword
I battle what should break me (as if it ever could).
I battle hunger, I battle opinions and danger in the streets.
I battle loneliness, the weather and the lack of peaceful sleep.
I battle trying to blend in, so people don’t notice me
trying to live this gutter life.
But most of all I battle to find a place to lay my head
where the few possessions I still hold on to
aren’t stolen or thrown out by the curb
by people who believe they’re helping,
because my very presence
disturbs their comfortable world.
Most of them do not see the person I once was
nor the one I someday hope to be.
They only see the world they know,
and in that world there is no room for me.
But some day I will be back, and I hope to stay
in a world where people don’t throw other people away.
Pat Scott © Copyright 2026