About the Contributor
Journee Johnson, Journalist
Journee is in 12th grade and this is her second year in Journalism. She babysits and runs for track. A fun fact about her is she loves to make music.
Homeless
February 10, 2022
I walked quietly with a heavy heart.
My feet trudged heavily on the cold cement.
The tears in my eyes fell freely as I began to let loose.
I wasn’t sad, I was tired of the life that I’d led.
My jacket was torn and my shoes beat to a pulp.
My stomach growled loudly and my back ached entirely.
My belongings were on my side–the little I had.
The frosty air of winter pierced my warm body.
I had nothing at all, just me all alone.
I sat down against a building and flashed my sign:
“Homeless. Anything helps.”
My feet trudged heavily on the cold cement.
The tears in my eyes fell freely as I began to let loose.
I wasn’t sad, I was tired of the life that I’d led.
My jacket was torn and my shoes beat to a pulp.
My stomach growled loudly and my back ached entirely.
My belongings were on my side–the little I had.
The frosty air of winter pierced my warm body.
I had nothing at all, just me all alone.
I sat down against a building and flashed my sign:
“Homeless. Anything helps.”