It’s cold at night, shelter is scarce
I feel like nothing..standing here
I ask for food, and am told get a job
I had one, until I got hurt
Embarrassed by my humanity
Dirty cloths , yet my heart is pure
Despite in demeanor, I try to find
my place
Still whole, I’m not broken
Yet, I worry for the others in my care
I am not invisible, a statistic or
useless
I know the feeling of being homeless
States make the homeless a criminal
A animal to be chipped
Or make them disappear entirely
I am a man of honor
Who served my country
Who loves my nation and it’s people
Even though I am reduced to asking
for help
I am no burden, no nuance to be disposed of
I am a warrior, a father, a son, a husband
a lover, and loved
But most of all I am
a Man

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe