White ... Native ... Homeless

The Food Shelf gave me some food and I shared an apple with a homeless lady on the steps of City Hall without realizing it wasn't always like this. Thanks to whoever made it possible.

She sits with me and we talk about her love
Of fighting men for she loves to fight she says
We sit and share of things worth thinking of
Her puffy scarred eyes claiming she hates the Rez
Her dark mind trying to see the White man's ways
My apple from the Food Shelf sure  looks good
Her fear passing like the cold wintry days
The white earth asking if it is and whether we should
As a friendship blooming in the depths of hell
Her liquored breath begs for so much more
But money I do not have as she can tell
As we part our ways, warmed and the larger for
Having shared a homeless time near City Hall
But in our world we just made friends that's all.