Blue Blood

Prince William

To take on something

Like homelessness

This is how I

An intuitive feeler

1% of the population

Feels about it

You cannot not get

Political

About it

When people need

Love

Healing

Therapy

Shelter

Animals

People

Care

Trust

Specialist treatment

We have to go above

And beyond

To truly understand

The reasons

The heroine addict

Behind homelessness

So this is the trip

I went on

First

Brown

When you cook it up

On your dirty single

Mattress

In a squat

And inject it into

Your veins

Running through your

Blood stream

Every worry

Every concern

Dissipates

Distillates

Filtrates

And disappears

From your body

When all you feel

Is pure bliss

Sinking through the

Floor

Swimming through every

Cell of your body

It isn’t sex

But it feels safe

For a moment

Lost without time

No problems

And no fear

The trip of all trips

Transcending dimensions

A potent mix

From the universe

Of plants

The affliction

Of the addiction

Takes hold

As moments pass

For I have no judgement

When you would do

Anything

Anything

For that next hit

With your skin

Crawling

And itching

You run

Steal

Break the law

Beg

Yearn

For the money

For that bit of brown

Maybe it’s crack

Maybe it’s smack

Anything to take the

Memories away

For I’ve slept rough

Lay next to tramps

The homeless

Spent hours

And nights

With them

Trying to understand

How they feel

Why they are on

The streets

My heart beats

With an ability

To sense

And go through their

Lives

Witness is not experience

Sympathy is not

Empathy

Their stories

I hold dear to my

Heart

The alcoholic

He’s in his sixties

White beard

Unwashed

Bad teeth

Can’t remember

The last time he

Washed

And that first sip

Of the spirit

Whiskey

And the feeling

Of that state

When the alcohol

Works its magic

Whether he pisses himself

Ends up in the gutter

Vomits over himself

And the pavement

Nothing matters

Because of the pure

Ecstasy

He feels

Escaping reality

Into sleep

Oblivion

With no care

In the universe

For he reached the

Gods

Before passing out

I met this guy

When I caught the end

Of an AA meeting

He’d been clean

For 46 years

Said he loved alcohol

More than

His wife

More than his life

Itself

That is how it feels

The girl I used

To see

At Clapham Junction

When I was

Coming back from

Work

Skinny to the bone

I asked her what she

Would like

She always wanted

The cherry icing bakewell tarts

Anything to feed her

Her story matters

They all do

So the abused

The different reasons

For ending up on

The streets

Sexual abuse

As a child

The guilt

The shame

The confusion

The fear

Some become sex addicts

Themselves

Others carry the

Memories

They flee to the

Streets

Where survival

Of the harshest

Cold

And weather

Conditions

Is better

Than any memory

Cold to the touch

Your eyes tell me

Too much

So many different reasons

For homelessness

The mental illness

The neglect

What they have witnessed

So there’s this Irish

Guy

Let’s call him Jo

His father’s a gambling

Alcoholic

Who beats up his

Mum

He has a sister

Jo runs away to

Dublin

Aged seventeen

He finds a stray

Dog

Who really found him

He can barely read

Or write

Cannot articulate

How he feels

Pale

Skinny

Green eyes

Green veins

The way people look at

Him

When they walk

Past him

The pity

They feel

He doesn’t know

The word

He just knows

How it makes

Him feel

He sees people

In smart clothes

Girls his age walking

Past

Looking at him

With sorrow

Someone gives him

50p

And another person

£1

He buys a can of coke

That pours through

His body

And it feels

Like pure medicine

A rush of sugar

To his brain

Jo is completely broken

He can barely feel

Most of the time

He is so cold

He forgets what warm

Feels like

As the hours

Pass like years

And the years

Pass like centuries

Someone from Shelter

Speaks to Jo

‘We’re gonna help you

And find you

Somewhere to live

With your dog’

The flat is freshly

Painted

With a cupboard

A single bed

And a window

Looking out onto

The street

Jo gets diagnosed

With PTSD

What does that

Even mean?

The flashbacks

He experiences

Wake him up

In his sleep

He thinks about

His sister

He receives

Therapy

But we know what

Jo needs

It’s beyond therapy

He needs to be

Held

Loved

He needs to feel

Safe

So Shelter help him

Find a job

At the local newsagents

He learns how

To work the till

There’s this girl

Sophie

Who works at the

Newsagents

Too

The way she looks

At him

If only she

Knew

Gradually, Sophie

Starts speaking

To Jo

It takes time

But they get to know

Each other

Sophie comes back

To Jo’s flat

And she holds him

When he shakes

When he cries

When he screams

Jo feels like Sophie

Is an angel

Who was put on this

Earth

Especially for him

Homelessness

Prince William

What a task

Mammoth mountain

To take on

Soup kitchens

Shelters

Supported accommodation

Mental health

Severe trauma

I respect you

So much

For doing it

Your mother would be

So proud

There are some, few

Who would prefer

To be on the streets

As that is their only

Way to deal with

Reality

But many

Really do need and want help

We need resources

Funding

So much specialist treatment

To tackle this issue

Above all

We and they

Need

Love

But need will always

Be greater than love

Lack of judgement

Understanding

Listening

And accepting

Our differences

Is crucial

I’m with you

On this one

Wholeheartedly