L.O.T.S

They bumped his girlfriend , her leg bent and broken

He had told me the night before, we had spoken

How statistically now a new narrative around her spun

Not just homeless, also survivor of a hit-and-run

Morning stands him before me half-naked bleeding

Dark colour visibly from his face receding

Dry blood like arteries lacing the surface of his skin

His outside cruelly transparent with his within

It was material to enhance his temporary home

For to survive they skarrel, to upgrade they roam

And another thought to build himself a better lean-to

No concern for what getting it meant going through

Now he can’t raise his arm to help park your vehicle

And perchance wile an ‘odd’ out of you still

Since, as he confessed to me, his story short and sweet

All he has ever known, has been life on the street

SP