This is my poem published in 2013 by CAP – Community Arts Partnership as part of an Anthology of poetry entitled ‘Moments’
– moments in our lives that change us forever. It relates the struggle of a young homeless girl called Hope.
Each day she hopes against hope that ‘today will be different’ She’ll get a break – get a home. She’s cold. To keep warm she rides the train without a ticket – to the end of the line and back. So hungry she eat the leftovers who people drop on the ground.
In the end she begins to lose hope and decided to end her life by drowning…
Read on – feel her despair…she’s not a drunk. She’s not on drugs. She’s just a young homeless girl – somebody daughter, granddaughter and sister.
We all hate to be fooled. People will say – brought it on themselves – getting benefits etc.
Help the homeless this Christmas in whatever small way you can. You never know, your act of kindness might be the answer to some mother’s prayer and give hope to someone who is teetering on the brink of despair to pull back – have renewed hope that things will be different tomorrow.
Read to the end and share with your friends
Dawn loosens inky night’s grip
Doorstep dweller’s icy limbs stir
Ragged self respect nags Hope awake.
Things will be different today
Life bagged, turtle like, she trundles;
Into the flickering purple pink new day light
Night’s terror relinquished to the light
Hunger holds Hope in its iron grip
Foggy mist obscures sound of feet that trundle
Tyres crackle on glistering ice; city stirs
Things will be different today
Hope walks and walks to stay awake
Train station – warm place to stay momentarily safe, awake
Binned bacon butty, retrieved, one bite missing, discarded lightly.
Hunger pushes, stomach hunches against gut’s painful grip
Things will be different today
Hope rides the train to the end of the line and stirs
Midday walking has bled into afternoon’s early evening trundle
Lighted houses shining: shameful feet trundle
Away to hide the ache and stay awake
Evening’s breathe, frets, Hope stirs
Fear flies on winged feet’s fading light
A doorway to find, despair grips
Things were not different today
Ragged self respect nags Hope to end it all today
Icy riverbank welcomes feet that trundle
Weary bones and bundled rags release their grip
Black oily waters, her home when dawn breaks
A falling star Heaven’s light!
Senses frantically fight; hope stirs
Thrashing body, surviving life stirs
Things will be different today
Bedraggled ragged body glistening wet in the falling light
Hope, shivering alive, hair rubbish streaked, trundles
In her doorstep dwelling she shudders awake
Re-living death’s wet seductive smiling grip
Despair assails her and she trundles
Today she’d walk, walk and stay awake.
She’d stay in the light and avoid death’s grip
Gemma Hill published 2013 copyright c
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