Being homeless is not very nice,

To the people who pass you by,

They don't think twice.

They think you are a thug,

Spending what little money you have on drink and drugs!

You're not like that at all,

Just down on your luck, no-one to break your fall.

All you can do is sit in the shop doorway out on the street,

Begging for spare change for something to drink and eat.

Thinking about how you wish you had a roof over your head,

And a nice, warm cosy bed.

You feel all alone and want a place you can call home.

One day your life will turn around,

Where instead of crying, laughter will be the only sound.

In a cardboard box you have to spend another night.

Hoping that everything will turn out all right.