They chose a homeless freedom.
Set instinctively to survive they live for today.
They know all the dark secrets of the city.
they fall like birds onto the park benches
to spend the night in the company of stars.
In the morning,
They leave the baggage of old newspapers and wander on.
It is never too late, or too early
-The days are too similar to be afraid of anything.
Those of us, who live hurriedly and hygienically,
Pass them with revulsion and a feeling of superiority.
With dignity, we tote around stereotypes and the day’s routine.
We hurry along other paths of life.
Sometimes, we collide-we stop pensive
Over diversity of human stories