The stars hung low that night;
To greet a girl who sat on the rooftop
Of a filthy run down cottage
At the end of the 'Homeless Women' lane.

Her knees were scraped with callused fingernails
That bled against the chips on the wall she climbed
To watch the pretty little things shine
In her personal paradise
And sigh with wonder on a dark solitary night.

The emptiness in her stomach growled
While her eyes devoured the moon
Maybe the night resembled her tattered black dress
And stars were just despicable holes in the fabric of sky.

Greasy auburn hair hung on her skimpy frame
Not many will look for beauty on that grotesque face
But there was a prepossessing charm in her pain
The way she never really had things to lose
So she loved everything we seldom bother to.

It was a cold night on a full moon
She breathed her last atop a red roof.
No one remembers a homeless girl with wild eyes
A homeless girl who died in her true home,
In her personal paradise .

Maybe she was only fifteen
But not many can claim
They've worn constellations on their body
Maybe she found her peace
Landing the stars while we were asleep
Maybe we should love the way
A homeles girl once did
And maybe the way she died
Is the way most of us have never even lived.