Weakened and battered,
I hope for a better life.
Going insane and tortured,
No place to call my home.
I am just a poor boy from America,
I have nothing to call my home.
Struggling just to have my victory,
Over and over again I have no roof.
Where is my pride in unjustified?
In my world, I once had known
I am poor and have no self-pride,
I have no place to call my home.
Grace will set those to freedom,
As a young boy, I wanted refuge.
I am not overflowing with wisdom,
Unwillingly I am overblowing my fuse.
I yell but nobody hears my cries,
Troubling and I have no roof over my head.
No place to call my home all I ask is why?
I hope for the goodness of staying alive, not dead.
Opening my opportunities to a wider bright side,
I am starving from not eating for many long days.
They called me Lennie, but that might be a lie,
Angered and beaten to I am blackened and hazed.
Over and over again I wish I had a home to be safe,
But sadly I am never going to seek a home forever.
Wished and got nothing I think it is already too late,
I wish I had a place to call my home I will be safer.
Please don’t let me die oh Lord I beg you for mercy,
Hungered and battered I have a strong will to be alive.
Starvation isn’t an option in my option to have safety,
Got no place to call my home I wish for this until I die.
Poetry
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At times the present and future looks bleak, but you know where to look and who to call out to, those who feel the same, thanks.