Authoress’s notes: I write these in my English class a couple of months ago when we were studying the book ‘stone cold’ We were told to write a poem on homeless people, so I teamed up with my buddy Michael to write this.

I mean no offence to tramps or homeless people, I don’t really think what’s in this poem.

My Anti-Tramp

Homeless homeless,

They grovel around,

On their knees

On the ground.

They stink like excrement

They smell like poo,

Nothing at all

Like me or you.

Homeless homeless

Rags they wear,

Why are they homeless?

We don’t care.

Everyday

They ask for money,

And when we say no

They feel well crummy.

Homeless homeless

One shower a year

And maybe if they are lucky

A glass of beer.

When they get nothing

They go home and cry,

In their cardboard boxes

Till they die.