Christchurch Gardens, Victoria Street
How easy it is to pass them by
Excuses fall willingly from the sky
The charities speak with one voice
They claim that some are homeless by choice
They say you have to be cruel to be kind
Make sure their begging is kindly declined
And give your donations to us instead
Who will use the money to find them a bed
Instead of wasting it on drugs or drink
Pushing them towards humanity’s brink
Rough sleepers, they say, are a disparate lot
And from many causes are they begot:
Mentally ill discharged to the community
As well as those seizing an opportunity
Some work in restaurants during the day
But can’t afford beds on such meagre pay
Some are there because of domestic strife
Some come in gangs from across the sea
Exploiting goodwill from you and me
Many have tents they are now espousing
Their only chance of affordable housing
They argue with force it’s their human right
To pitch their own tent where ever they might
But it has led to something really quite perverse
The homeless are now in a parallel universe
Which exists as a backdrop to urban life
A global problem where the homeless are rife
Which we are aware of but don’t see
We turn blind eyes in the land of the free
We can find money to reach for the moon
But won’t build more houses any time soon
We’ll keep walking the other side of the street
Until humanity deigns to wake from its sleep.
