That whore you sneer at
as she stands thin and tired at the roadside,
that addict shooting up in
a squalid alley or rancid room
Was raped as a kid by daddy/step-daddy/family friend/priest
beaten by their
Given a fix by their mother at twelve years of age.
Lives on the streets because they have a mental illness
Can be child/girl/woman/boy/man who
Hasn’t known love as the system moves him/her
from house to house/boarding house/.
Don’t say “home”.
Because home means love and to the
raped/abused/paedophile victim/loveless person/
mentally ill person
each house of refuge/shelter/rooming house is not a home:
Only the smack/crack/ice
is the Lover, the one who whispers in your ear aching for love, for hugs:
I will provide the oblivion from a world
which has scraped you raw,
left you bleeding from your heart,
Turns its back.
Because you are The Shadow:
What we all could be.
So walk a mile in their shoes.
Then show them your heart:
Respect! Respect! Respect!