The unending
cold brought by this night cannot stop me from dreaming,
I slip inside
the carton box that I inherited from my late neighbour,
I only got this
because everyone in the street saw it fit to let me inherit it as we were
close,
Otherwise I
didn’t even get a single of his clothes,
He had a whole
wardrobe that he wore yet he was buried naked,
The ‘friends’ in
the street needed them more than the dead,
This life was
worse than prison,
I guess God
subjected us to his worldly Prison,
I’d ask myself
but end up with no reason.
Tonight it was
super windy and the box was blow away from my corner,
Funny that I
dint even notice as I was dreaming how warm a blanket would be,
A royal bed away
from all this trash and pee,
All that’s good
and free,
Workers for me,
A family of
three,
Shade under a
garden of trees.
With the cold of
early morning,
A man pissed at
me yawning,
It felt nice as
it was warm like a steamed water fall,
I rolled with excitement
only to open my eyes to the amazement of that dude,
He used to be
rude,
Pulling his cock
out nude,
Pissing on my
corner and on me yet it was clearly written on the walls,
Hakuna kukojoa
hapa,
Yet a pauper I was
and hungry like papa,
The weakling of
the street I had no say whatsoever to any ones doing,
I washed with
some rain water in a pothole,
Started my daily
hustles by first finding my box,
It was my only possession,
The only thing
that kept me dreaming,
The only thing
that covered my eyes from seeing all the street brutality that ended with
screaming,
Anyway its only
free to keep on dreaming.
