It happened at once
Got on the bus Hoping to find a future
A better situation
No harm intended to anyone
Wanting to see a new horizon
Instead of encouragement the unsightly reality crept in
A smaller apartment than the one I was in showed up.
A manager pointing in the direction of the old complex prior to the one I was in
A theif laid in wait on the bus trip slightly ahead
I got on My head felt as if it were going to crack
I got off the bus.
My back pack were not there
I could not think
Tried to get the bus there
No assistance to help me stop it
The company hung up would not help
No drivers would radio ahead
My birth certificate lay in that back pack
Papers of housing I had put in for laid inside
A red guitar pick I kept for safe keeping
a note book only of basic information.
Fumbling from a seizure is never an easy task
Individuals now having personal data to abuse with is worse.
A stranger approaching me about future housing on the bus
Many so called friends suddenlying knowing all about me speaking to me.
Wondering what is going through their heads
Why did they try to steel apart of me I thought.
Sought to seek assistance with this.
Can replace things, too soon to regain too much composure.
Yet wondering why the bus company
Regards a lady with a walker who relys on them for transport
In disregard, I was robbed,
Yet I will move on with little trust for the ones I saw before there.
A moment of time, brings a change of thinking
A look at the individuals with no concicious
Ones with a need to gang up on by rumor
No forethought other than greed, sadistic head games afoot
Yet my reaction is not as they wish I give them no looks
I regard them not as honest or trustworthy
Their motives are not worth anything
The ones I thought I could trust are showing themselves
An expereince makes one wonder why
These people do such things.
Why do they seek to harm, gang up
Try to ruin and disturb a persons well being
I guess once I move past this I will be stronger
They may have a few papers my backpack,
Their heartless act, Yet not my soul
Not my mind or my life. I deny them my goodness, that they must earn.
By Doris Mendlovitz