Going Home

The last thoughts of a homeless woman.

Going Home

Hunger burns inside of me,
my body shakes from cold.
There's darkness, far as I can see,
there's no one here to hold.

The emptiness is killing me,
in more than just one way.
No one hears my desperate pleas,
on this my final day.

Shall I die from emptiness
of stomach or of heart?
How do I beat homelessness
before my life departs?

I feel the icy cold surround
my lungs draw one last breath.
My heart has one last beat to pound
as I slip into my death.

There's no one here to mourn my soul
and no one knows I'm gone.
But my life, it has been whole,
because Jesus shared the dawn.