Walking Beside You

Walking Beside You

I see you in the morning frost,
when city lights dim
and the world pretends not to notice
your blanket of stars.

I see you, and you are not invisible—
not when you shelter in doorways,
not when you carry your home
in weathered backpacks,
not when you speak
and others turn away.

I will walk beside you
through winter’s bitter bite,
through summer’s merciless heat,
through spring rain that soaks
everything you own.

I will walk beside you
past the turned heads,
past the locked doors,
past the empty promises
and hollow sympathy.

I will walk beside you
until every cardboard bed
becomes a real one,
until every makeshift shelter
transforms into a home,
until every forgotten corner
echoes with belonging.

I see you,
I walk with you,
I stand beside you—
until the streets
are just streets again,
and home is more
than just a word
when we dare to fight we dare to dream.