I Am A Person Without A Home

This is a poem that I wrote while I was living under a freeway overpass. I think that it catches the essence of being homeless.

I am a person without a home,
Living under a bridge, just like a gnome.
Mostly I am just ignored,
Unless the police become too bored.
Then it’s as if I have no rights,
Being kicked awake in the middle of the night.
Made to move my harmless camp,
Walking the streets in the cold and damp.
Always trying to keep out of sight,
Hugging the shadows, avoiding the light.
As I walk the streets alone,
I am a person without a home.