Pain pounding through my head.
I stop and suddenly see,
How lucky I must be.
To have a large, soft, cosy nest,
To feel the warmth of my duvet and vest.
Whilst many lie on the streets,
Feeling the ice cold ground at their feet.
Empty from hunger, no shelter from the rain,
Emotionally and physically exhausted from the pain.
Sitting. Waiting. In the darkness of the night,
As people walk by with not a glance; not a sight.
So as you sit here, reading this upon your phone,
Be thankful you've not just got shelter above your head, but a place you can call home.
Kate x
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