You left because your wife cheated.
You left to support the kids.
You entered shelter feeling defeated.

Bipolar is the diagnosis the doctor gave you.
Unable to stop the voices,
you lost your job and home with no one to turn to.

Courts said your parents beat you, life in foster care
Confused, you struggle. Too old, you aged out,
unable to find a home anywhere.

Felony gun charges you took for your friends- you’re no rat.
You lost your kids, did your time,
no housing for you because of your wrap.

Pan handling and drunk, you laid down and died.
The sun got you.
God has your soul he heard when you cried.

Synthetic Marijuana is equal to ‘spice’ they say,
It gave you a seizure…
you fell in the storm drain and died that day.

Rest well sweet children of the streets.
I’m sorry we failed you. I’m ashamed of our defeat.

We will keep fighting to end this, wiping away tears of pain.
The streets may have taken you, but your lives do not go in vain.

~M