Streets don't tell my story
Streets don't tell my story stereotypes stories

jackcollyer Poetry is my release and escape
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
The story behind the person that asks you for change

Streets don't tell my story

You pass me almost every day

As you rush to get to work,

I sit, legs crossed and shivering

In a blanket caked in dirt.

I ask if you have change to spare

You can't even meet my eye

What hurts the most is not the wish

to be in your position

What breaks a peice of me each day

Is the lack of recognition

I could be your son,

I could be your father

I could even be your brother

Why must you judge this open book

by the condition of its cover

You judge me on my life today without knowing of my past,

You have no idea how your luck can change and no idea how fast

Let me tell you my story, the events that led me here,

The tragedy and heartbreak

The blood, the sweat, the tears.

I used to have a job, monotonous just like yours

I used to ponder my life's direction,

staring at the grimy surface of the tubes shoe scuffed floors

Then one early winter morning my life was made complete,

As I held my newborn daughter at her mother's feet,

My love for her was limitless and knew no restriction

I held her tight and shed a tear as I was told of her affliction.

The doctors said to expect the worst her life may not be long

The doctors had no idea; that my baby girl was strong

She beat the cancer for 6 whole years

before fate took her away

She was running out of school finished for the day

An infectious smile across her face

she never could wait to play,

I watched her run towards me smiling at her warmly

Completely unaware of life's next tragic chapter

In my humble story

The driver drunk; behind the wheel

Swerved straight towards the gate

These bitter wounds will never heal

No child deserves her fate

Now I sit with icy rage as I listen to the judges verdict

8 months inside and a driving ban reduced if his behaviour deserves it

I stare at the stone; shaped and marked, to the memory of my child

Unable to see my old life or job as conceivably worthwhile,

She brought such light and joy

A smile to all she'd meet

I wonder if she'd smile

At this broken soul,sitting silently on these streets

I don't wish that we could swap our lives,

That I could be in your position

I wouldn't change a single thing

If my life could be rewritten,

I'd sleep these streets forever more

To hold her one last time

Ive never been prouder of anything more

Than when I told people she was mine

You judge me on my life today

You don't know of my past

I hope you never know this feeling

I hope your happiness always lasts

I simply wish that next time you see me sitting on the road side,

That instead of pretending I don't exist you nod as you meet my eye.

You never know the story,

of those you meet each day

You never know if it could be you

Who sits broken in the rain

Open up your mind to the possibility that you're not right

That the person you so quickly judge

Doesn't conform to that stereotype.

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