Cold, subdued
Huddled in a corner
To keep warm and dry
To get soaking wet
You don’t have to try.

Sometimes she yet fails
To remember her name
For now it’s not that often spoke
She barely gets treated like a woman
And chivalry would just make her choke.

She’s lived on the street for five years now
Just a beating too many made her leave
She spends her time now drinking cheap whisky
Often drunk to fend off the cold
For a woman this life is so risky

As her hell continues to unfold.

©Joe Wilson – Mercy Street 5…2017