Remembering The Homeless This Christmas

With just over a week to go until Christmas Day, my thoughts have turned to those people less fortunate, who may be spending their Christmas sleeping rough, relying on the hospitality of charities for their festive meal and drop in centres for temporary shelter to keep warm,  if they are luck enough to secure a bed.

Earlier this year I too experienced financial hardship for a few months and was struggling to pay my mortgage. This was on top of dealing with emotional turmoil following the first anniversary of my dad's death back in January, followed by the breakdown of a relationship in February which ended badly and not helped by a chain of events that followed. This all had a huge negative impact on me at the time. Things happened that I could never of predicted and planned for in advance. But I managed to get through that dark period, highlighting a inner strength that sometimes we don't know we have hidden deep inside. 

I now work as a contractor, earning more as a freelancer than I ever have before and the turmoil of the first half of 2013 is firmly behind me for now. But I will always remember the experience and it has taught me a lot about self-survival.  Through hard times we may lose a lover or two and shed a few friends but as a result we fight on and become stronger. We attract the right people who bring positives rather than negatives into our lives. 

So, as Christmas Eve draws closer, lets be thankful for what we have in our lives now, our health, a roof over our heads, a job, family and friends and reflect on those people who don't have these things we take for granted in their lives and have no choice but to sleep rough on our streets.  

Below is a poem I wrote in September after my own personal experiences of financial hardship and following a trip to a art gallery one lunchtime at work to view an exhibition of dog drawings, sketched by a talented artist who was sleeping rough on the streets of London with his beloved pet.

Homeless

The world seems so small as I look at your feet,

I sleep on cardboard, each day struggling to eat,

Lovers and friends gone, I see my family no more,

No shoes to walk in, my feet swollen and sore,

Your footsteps are cannons, you blow me out,

Everyone's a critic, what are you all about?

I look up in thirst as you spit on the ground.

You pat my dog but don't drop me a pound.

I am a nobody to you, I can see it in your eyes,

But once I was a somebody, is that a surprise?

A job in the City, a house in the countryside,

I dream of survival as I sleep with my pride.

I draw on experiences, canvases filled with strife,
Artwork on gallery walls, an ambition of life.
Money in my pocket, a room for the night,
I will always remember you, a future so bright.