Author Unknown

I come,

I go,

this shelter

is merely

a rest stop

on this highway of life.

I got

thangs to do,

folks to see . . .

cain’t afford

to slow down

or jump off

of this carousel of life.

Ya’ll may

see me

on the street

and think

I’m an aimless

Marauder . . .

a transient...

the absolute mirage . . .

in this desert of life.

But I got

dreams,

hopes,

desires . . .

like you...

and although

I be

down on my luck

I ain’t stuck

in the quicksand of life.

I ain’t sick . . .

and don’t think

that this state called

"homelessness"

is some escape

or cloak-and-dagger operation

on board the L-train of life.

I can make it . . .

I can

understand why

"Papa was a

rollin’ stone,

wherever he laid

his hat

was his . . .

home,"*

on the eight-track of life.

I choose to

find my way,

even if

I gotta muddle

through the muck and mire of life.

My existence

and persistence,

for sure,

ain’t fruitless

nor facile

in this game called life.

*Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone performed by the Temptations,

lyrics by Barrett Strong

Maya Carter

MS III

First Place, Poetry