Tuesday, October 01, 1991

poem: The Streets of Berkeley

The Streets of Berkeley
Sunburned, but cold as hell,
Oh, the stories she could tell.

All of you just pass her by,
Is her life to be a lie?

No one listens, no one cares,
No one looks. No one dares.

She only eats one meal a day,
She doesn't laugh, she doesn't play.

She has no tapes, she has no books,
Gets no respect, only dirty looks.

Someday you may see the light,
Someday you may share her plight.