The cars are loud, the buildings tall.
And here I am, scared and small.
Forced to live where none shall dwell.
What you call Heaven, I call Hell.
I walk your streets and you mock and spit.
The renegades, they kick and hit.
They come, they take, all I hold dear.
So I die alone, in piss and beer.
Here I stand, in filth and shit.
And hopefully I, for just a bit
Can see who I am, and what I was.
And finally find what is the cause
Of this death, this life in pain.
Mornings in heat, and nights in rain.
The life I had, stolen and torn.
Not even a coffin for which to morn.
Why do you look for those who live far?
To give your time, and a happy dollar.
Why is it them, your love you give?
When the stench of death is where you live?
© Copyright 2016 Evan Matthews. All rights reserved.