Pay- Pay- Pay Pay me
they say. Enslaved
to pay or you just
can't stay. Out to
the streets where
there is not heat we
freeze our feet as
we beat the streets
trying to find some
place save to sleep.
Oppressed and stressed
to stay alive, we
cry down inside
as we try to get
by. What is the
price for human
life. It's 7 degrees
overnight. We stand
and fight only to end
up staring at
Fluorescent lights
and served a bill
we must pay for a place
we were forced to
stay just for trying to live
just one more day.     
Chase King

by Ralph "the Human Being" Mills

​This is to someone I don't even know
someone I have never kissed, held, or made feel so,
like in my arms is where you want to stay
How can I suppress your desire to get away

Know that in my heart there is a hidden key
that unlocks your desire to be a part of me
you don't even know me, how can you call it love
or do you have insight from the man above

that placed eyes inside your heart for you to see 
not the way I look, but inside of me.  
Cause it is something your eyes will never be able to see
but inside your heart you will know it is me

that was placed on this earth to satisfy you
your pleasure is what I am into
this is to someone I don't even know
someone I have never kissed, held, or made feel so.

​For profit nonprofit
that's the scam
to keep away our uncle
Sam. His names
Pam and her's is
Pam that's just
not needed for the
scam. When your
Bar code scan is
the best plan
Blessed be to all
that see
An little sleep is all
I need
If I sleep a bit too late
I ask you please jut
don't wake.
For I have no
place to medicate

Chase King

​There once was a man,
in a van….

although he had a breathalyzer,
he threw out his can.
But his beer ran out…
So he pawned it all.
Then the cops said “no ! --
Your tags are too slow”.
So he lost his van…
But without any plan,
unable to work,
unable to cope,
he looked on,
with not too much hope …

…towards the old maid
down the lane
just across the way.
No one told her
she couldn’t stay…
just there, not under the tree.
It took no time,
he found her not 3
meters from his tree.
He looked over at her
but he was drunk,
already.
But he couldn’t stop drinking,
and he doesn’t care to,
cuz the ups are too
infrequent, and few.

Now winter was on,
and all the folk knew --
none should celebrate,
have some laughs, or a brew.
Like the huddled masses Of Ellis Island,
the homeless of this nation,
huddle and stew.…
..And they take their place
at the table that’s set,
under the rafters,
and amongst the policies
and eat their stew.


And their outlooks are grim
and they spent their paychecks –
not on rent –
but on vodka, instead --
cuz they have no hope left,
or anywhere cheap to rent…
And the others too poor
but to steal, and repent --
Those from jail,
the vets,
those in cars,
or a pet,
the children who wonder at night –
where they are ;
and where they will be --
by the morning star…
Those under the bridge –
and kicked out of a house,
Those that know the rest of them too----
Those with mismatched gloves,
and holes in their shoes …

And a few die on the way,
from Climate;
or Policy--
Doesn’t matter - the whether.

And they wait to see who it was,
who went down,
when the sun’s not up.

Their eyes are dim,
their lip skin split –
and they don’t smile,
or know where their lives went --

And they lived it all before –
another year, another “roar”.

But we should make life a map
to where the sun beams - -
Where more than just a holiday meal,
isn’t just a pipe dream !

And the whole picture fades
to me giving a dollar
when I should have given three.
--or a nice night in,
--or a Maserati!!
--or a Christmas tree.
But they already live in one, you see..    

And they live for the hope:
the old, and the new…
And their faces are
“homeless colored”,
and rugged,
and true…
And I see me,
and I see you.

America the free?
America the policy –

And the longer it goes --
                Includes you, and me.