thoughts on destitution

where do these thoughts belong
nowhere for they are homeless
as homeless as her heart
bereft of affection that she needs
left in want for the resources
that make life smooth in this society
wherein she resides and hides
divorced from the world that functions
without distress and habitual begging

an exercise in humility
humbling and good for the heart
in the long run
left without a hand to hold
empty-handed hopefulness
without even a half measure
of the attention she needs
a beggar's heart with no home
inner turmoil with no voice

robbed of expression of truth
of a full life
with someone who wants to
offer all of the attention
never having quite enough
to feel comfortable
yet always cared for by and by
by the traveler on their
way to their own homes

passersby with something to give
the puzzle pieces that make life whole
though disjointed and dejected
put together with a bit of paste
and a whole lot of prayer
while divested of love's finery
left stark and cold with nowhere to go
on this earth for shelter
from the elements of want and woe

abandoned for emptiness
left to roam and want for
more than someone to talk to
someone who is present
for her needs and support
given self freely and fully
not borrowed for the day
someone more than glad to make room
for the impoverished love she has to give

destitution defined
painted with tools of affluence
words and emotions
not only for the starving for food
yet this exercise feels like a spit in the face
to ones who have no literal home
so with a heavy heart recognizing
there is so much more
unaccounted for