Better :)

Living inside a rain-soaked cardboard box
to occupy an entrance to a boarded up shop
on pebbled stone underneath an 18th century clock
the moon reflects in your hazel eyes as you sob
you called out for help, for money, till you felt lost
many people pass you by, their averted gaze catching your eye
Smoking to stay warm, your lungs as black as your heart
Your parents used to look for you, before it got dark.