Rocks in my Box
Here I come home to my box, to find it is filled with rocks. The rain and snow is no longer the only thing that blows. I had the perfect spot, quite and away from the world. Yet close enough to find food, showers, and mental health help. Homeless am I. Now I am extra homeless. It seems the city, instead of helping my build a path to get off the street. Rocks they use to fill my retreat. If only there was a place, if only a friend. If only a way, that I could create. The people all hate me, instead of a path they block my head tonight. Back into the cold, back into the rain. All to find a new place to lay my weary head. Tomorrow will come, back to my box I shall be. To take these rocks the city gave me. A path I will create. A path I will take. Then they will see, they could have used me. Instead they just wanted to hate me.
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