This Is Your Voice

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Food waste scatters along the ground, you can hear a sound, of the night slowly changing, the wind blowing, footsteps creeping up behind you, as you look down on your torn and tattered shoe, you freeze still, begin to feel a chill, fear suddenly hits, you hear someone quietly hiss, saying words that hit your emotions, whilst deep inside your soul is still broken.

You long to return back home, just so you're not alone, you miss your family, it shocks you when you think back on how your life suddenly changed rapidly, from being at home surrounded by peace, to being kicked out onto the street.

Money doesn't come around too often, but when it does, it's normally from stealing from an orphan, but instantly you regret it, because, suddenly you feel like life's spit, being thrown onto the floor, and all around you start to feel sore, someone gives you another kick, you start to feel sick, a bout of Nausea hits, you begin to have a fit, people walk on by, just leaving you there to die.

Sometime later, someone comes along and tries helping, they keep you sheltered away from the weather, they see you need protecting, away from prey, that circles around you each day, in time you'll change your life, make things right, have your own home to return to, begin something new, make-up for the mistakes you did, family forbid, you from seeing them, maybe now, they won't condemn, and let you back home somehow, even if it may take sometime to heal, you may have to kneel, down and pray, that things will in time get better this way, one small step, a day, as you re-enter your home's doorstep, and turn to say thanks, to the friend, who came along and gave a helping hand, and helped you mend, even though you was fractured, and you became a hazard, somehow your pieces stuck together like glue, and you was as good as new.