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by Willie Warren
To all of those who are reading this message,
Instead of doing what one normally would do:
Bend me your ear and I'll tell a short story,
About housing that relates to all of you.
The Homelessness World has many ups and downs,
Leaving people sometimes lost and ignorant:
Like you, my number came up to live here,
And I'm now being a Senator tenant.
I too, went through the interview process,
While visiting twice a week, a good friend.
I'd have lots of fun with most of his guests,
And many things to each other we'd give or lend.
Finally after two years my number got me in,
I felt like a ball team winning the pennant.
I could leave that over-priced Sixth Street dive,
And would live being a Senator tenant.
The day I moved in was physically exhausting,
I hand carried everything that I had;
Although something came up missing on day one,
I knew that life here wouldn't be bad.
Weathering the loss one has to push on,
Little sacrifices produce rewarding times;
Starting over is a pain, you know where;
It sabotages our patience in our primes.
But this was a move higher than square one,
Meeting neighbors that later became friends;
Having a kitchen to cook hot meals at home,
Is a situation we all hope never ends.
As a former homeless person and advocate of rights,
I've graduated from being a street dependent.
All the former war heroes sleeping under the stars,
Would very much enjoy being a Senator tenant.
Ten months have passed, life has gotten good,
With my social and personal life on the rise;
Support Services and I are family and friends,
To all the misled complainers surprise.
Yes, Low Income Housing has it's repair problems,
But no complaint is overkill or redundant.
I work for C.H.P., and I share your concerns,
And I'm enjoying being a Senator tenant.
Willie Warren
Room #715
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