If I sit with you on concrete
Warm myself with blasts of precious heat
Rising from unyielding subway grills
Put newspapers round my chest
And on the ground of cardboard home
Eat half sandwiches of strangers
Pull my hat low over my eyes
To hide the ever present shame
That takes on a persona all its own
If I add to this my overflowing tears
To those you no longer think to weep
Would that take away my guilt and anger
Could understanding ever help me sleep