The metal plates made too much noise and their scars spoke. In hunger, we stood. Waiting for food, for comfort, for life. Amongst the hatred we found our place. Found love…
We live in these streets, alone yet together. Clothed with forgiveness, void of anger. Nothing can break our ties nor poison us with lies. We have become family. Lately, we see your kind walk past by. Without knowledge of us being human, maybe our lack of hygiene wiped us clean.
We remember the metal plates, clean, old, broken, used. From them we used to eat. Now we stand by and beg. Even dogs are better than us. In your eyes, we have become less human. Have no emotions whatsoever. Please amidst all this, recognize our humanity. Breathing, seeing, feeling, dealing, seeking healing wanting meaning. Needing love, food.
Posted by P.A.W. from WordPress for BlackBerry.