Silent thanks mumbled in my head
As I walk in the door and out of the cold,
Soon to warm-up and get dry, instead
Of spending some kind of homeless
Icy survival experience huddled
Over a trash barrel fire, or rolling
Myself into a newspaper ball
Under a bridge, barely controlling
The shivering, wedged against a
Lonely hopeless wall of concrete...
So, yes, thanks for a warm room,
Vice eking-it-out on a winter's street.
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