#11 – Salvation’s Mistress (Persona as someone without a home)

I needed her like a jilted lover.
There was comfort when she was open,
but, too often she was unavailable.
I despised her in those awkward moments,
when I registered as Robert Flynn
and they eyed me, judging up and down,
whether or not to let me in.

She’d serve you breakfast, if you were willing,
scrambled eggs and toast, maybe a sausage.
I rarely ate her food, the boarders bothered me
with their gripes and lonely disrespect
They’d borrow your cigarettes, like their clan
but rob your backpack blind in a heartbeat
Life was tough at the Sally Ann.

Mr Flynn, they called my name, You must leave
Someone said I fought in the TV room, and I did
There are rules to follow and lines to be drawn,
or, you’ll be low man and pushed to the side
Nothing counts but a man’s fear or a bit of clout
and if she seems to like you just a little bit,
in the winter, there’s a chance she won’t kick you out

I got to stay that night, you’re lucky Mr Flynn,
it’s below zero outside and she says you can sleep
One night, not two, it seems I just caused problems
I grabbed my mat, my number, and a sheet
The backpack was a pillow and the sheet a cover
I spent the night half awake through droning snores
remembering why Miss Sally was my jilting lover

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