Listen to this poem

Eyes

I look all around and what do I see?
Thousands of eyes just looking at me,
Why are they looking; why do they stare?
Is it just me or the clothes I wear?
I don't want to be here, it wasn't by choice,
I live on the streets, not drive a Rolls-Royce,
But what does it matter, I'm here all the same,
I don't hold a grudge, there is no one to blame,
So leave me alone or help if you want,
Don't treat me like scum, like some kind of junk,
Each person must live the life he is given,
Be thankful for yours, I'm just glad to be livin'.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul