How can I sleep, when I walk through the street and bodies lay frozen right there at my feet.
How can I sleep, when their muscles are weak, when their breathing is freezing and their futures are bleak.
How can I sleep, when they’re out through the night, with the cold for a bite, without an ounce left to fight.
How can I sleep in the cozy warm bed when the ones on the outside can’t lay down their head.
How can I sleep, when they ask me for change and I pat down my pockets to show off my range.
How can I sleep, with the change I do offer, he’s the one with the cough who sees me as the coffer.
How can I sleep, I don’t understand. I seem to have two but don’t offer a hand,
The guilt that I feel is rightly so. Because societal failings I view as my own.
To be told that I shouldn’t I think is a lie, when there’s those on the streets who are waiting to die.
So let none of us sleep, we haven’t earned rest. Till the ones who have nothing, are firmly addressed.
Jake Pickford 