I sit outside a bank appealing for loose change,

I'm looked down upon as if something strange.

People pass as if I am not there,

Avoiding even giving me a glare.

 

Unfortunately there are many of us on the street,

Getting something in my cup is quite a feat.

Yesterday was tough I was soaked to the skin,

But ended up with a cup with something in.

 

Eight quid in change I had made begging all day,

And a Greggs sandwich luckily came my way.

But a sleeping bag I had left in a shop front,

On my return its theft I had to confront.

Curled up covered in cardboard in a H.S,B.C, doorway,

For  a key and a door I continuously pray !