You walked past me swiftly,
shook your head as I humbly bowed mine
holding on to this cardboard sign that suddenly became the life I never wanted.

Little did you know, I have a name.

In simply a matter of days my dignity stripped away by the dollar that you gave, worried that you’d “feed my habit,”
as though hunger was a sin.

Little did you know, I have a name.

You quickly brushed me off your step, a nuisance to your existence like a stray pet that left my humanity
inside of the home that once defined me as human.

Little did you know, I have a name.

You marked me with your stamp of disapproval.
Label me a statistic
despite the war I fought before you were born, lost in the pages of history you will never know.

Little did you know, I have a name.

See—
I was once a child, like you.
Created by the Divine with purpose, like you.
I was a brother, a son, a sister, a daughter, like you.
I loved my children the best I could, like you.
I was once a believer in the goodness of mankind, like you.
I wanted my life to have meaning, like you.
All that I needed was to be loved, like you.

Don’t let me be forgotten.
I have a name.
I have a name.