THE HOMELESS YOUNGEST MINDS.

Nobody in my family loves me.
I know I could have been very naughty, but there is no need for my family to kick me out on the streets.
I am very frightened to go back home, but I know my family don't want me.
I know I made a big mistake in thinking I could cope to find my own home, I just wanted to be an adult far too quickly.
I realise now I was wrong thinking I could cope.
I can't find any food to eat, but bits and piece of bread.
I am sleeping on the hard street floors, but some nights I sleep in cardboard boxes.


It's alright this poem isn't about me but how many of us stop to think what goes through homeless people's minds, mainly at christmas time?