The pain grows slow and deep
Covering the pain she slowly creeps
To the nearest spot where she can sleep
Cutting pain in her chest brings her back
Then she feels the cold air
How can this be?
Is this really her?
Living like a rat, in a dirty alley
No food to eat, but what comes from the trash
Can she survive the night to be a bum on the street?
Today she scrounges for change enough for a bite or
A drink of something sweet to dull the pain.
Tomorrow will be about the same.