Nessa Meadows

 

I hope my homelessness doesn’t put you off your stride.
I understand when you avoid looking in my eyes.
For should this cup pass to you,
I will lift you up. Those upon the street drink from a different cup.

I hope my sleepless eyes don’t bother you too much.
I’m older than I was a week ago, believe me I know.
Sleep is hard to come by with a hard floor to touch.
For should this cup pass to you,
I will lift you up. Those on the street drink from a different cup.

I hope these dirty clothes you don’t notice as you go along to stroll.
To gaze upon a sunset gold and you have not had to pay the toll,
of a misstep here and a misstep there and you smell the flowers without a care.
For should this cup pass to you,
I will lift you up. Those on the street drink from a different cup.

I will lift you up my friend , I will dry your tears.
This has been the story down through countless years.
For should the cup it pass to you, as it did to one long ago.
He will lift you up, he knows, those on the street drink from a different cup.

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