Part 36 of 60 - Curious strangers


I sometimes wonder, if they really knew, I guess I will just never know.
Some people would come, with some kind-hearted questions, my answers were sort of a show.
I’d say I was eighteen, and I was out here because I’d been kicked out and alone.
And sometimes I’d still wonder, if they’d ever thought, that I’d ran off from care or from home.

It’s not often like this but once in a while, you’ll find curious people out there.
That wanted to know why I lived on the streets, it’s a good thing to know that they care.
“Where are you parents? And your other family?” Every time those folk would ask. But in fear of being caught or grassed up to the law, I never give them the true facts.

“What’s it like to sleep here? And how can you feel safe? And at the night time here don’t you get cold?
At the side of the road, out here on your own, you don’t even look very old.”
Some would be sober and some would be merry, but most of them just wanted to hear,
What it was like sleeping rough in West End, and was I on the crack or on the gear?

I’d tell them half-truths, but we’d still somehow connect, I’m just trying my best to survive.
They’d ask why I couldn’t go back home to live, but to stay undetected I lied.
I told them the truths when they asked of the dangers, like the drunk folk that will try to start fights.
But after a while you get a thick skin, and you just have to stand up for your rights.

I tried to avoid having to lie too much, and I just tried to simply be.
The last thing I wanted was to tug on their sorrows, so I’d say I was happy and free.
Funny I guess, my life in the West End, and some of the people I’d meet.
There was once a woman who’d come every few days, and play scrabble with me on the street.

I’d met Uri Geller, he seemed a nice fella, although I’d not told him that I’d ran away.
He said he’d charged up a card with his positive vibes, which would help bring some luck to my day.
The boxer Chris Eubank would come whizzing past me, on a small silver scooter so fast.
And so many faces that I’d seen on the telly, would once in a while walk past.

I’ll take each day just how it comes, but it wasn’t all lonely and dark.
I’d always still loved, to play with a football, and across the road was Green Park.
Big groups of lads, we would all kick a ball, and all nations would come together,
And I’d always find myself something to do, no matter what sort of weather.

Some kind-hearted folk would take me out for dinner, I’d slept on someone’s office floor.
Some would simply drop me some breakfast, and the next day bring some more.
Always this life had brought me some bright sparks, and only now can I think this way.
If it wasn’t for those that had poked in their nose, I wouldn’t be who I am today.

And if I hadn’t broken some boundaries myself, then things could have seemed so much worse.
You’re not on your own when good people connect,
Like a gift from this great universe.

You can purchase Poems From a Runaway for under £15 on Amazon

You can also get signed colour higher-quality paperbacks from £25 at

Hardbacks available on written request.
benwestwooduk (at)

No comments:

Post a Comment