EDITOR – A homeless person died in my road a few houses down from where I live.
I saw him lying there the afternoon before, he was lying under a grey blanket. I’d seen him before, across the road, sleeping in an entrance to Girl’s College. Something about the way he was lying seemed wrong but I was in a hurry, I didn’t do anything about it. Instead I drove past.
A policeman said he’d had been dead for at least two days. Nobody stopped to see if he was okay. I didn’t. But I should have. The policeman said TB medication was found on him. He was sick. He was alone. He died on the pavement a few houses down from where I live and I didn’t help him.
“Another homeless person just died
another homeless person died
and not one person cried
not one person cried
cause its just another
homeless person that died
not people like you and me
like you and me.”
(Excerpt from Another Homeless Person Died, is an original life poem written by Judy Jones)
Cheryl Johnson
Save Our Berea
