My short and sad poem

Everybody runs away from me

as if I was a strange disease.

I live on the streets begging

but no one ever throws even a cent.

People pass as if they have blinkers.

That is when I decided to avert
that life and join the gangsters.
We rob people and if they resist we stab them.
My job was to sharp my knife everyday.

We moved to the next level when we hijack cars.
Unfortunately my friends were shot dead.
Count my self very luck to be alive.