A Homeless Man Named Sam - Part 2

Cont. from Part 1

After I saw that Mission where all the homeless live
 My heart hurts, that we as a Nation, can’t even a nickel give
 How brave are we as a Country, but equally important, how brave are we as humans beings?
 When we see poor, sad homeless people and we just pretend that they aren’t seen! 

Living out of boxes, under bridges, or on some old street, wheeling grocery carts that hold all they own
 Standing in line for a single meal, or living in an old cardboard box, that so many call their home
 
That man on the corner I talked about, was standing there just yesterday
 All the cars just drove on by never stopping to help or go out of their selfish ways
 It was pouring down rain as he stood there alone, looking so tired wet and cold
 I wondered to myself, what would Jesus do for this man who looks so worn out and old? 

All my friends told me I was careless to have lent this man a hand
 But you see I couldn’t help myself, he was so broken down that man
 I pulled my car over and parked it close off the side of the street
 I waved to him and when he came I asked, “Would you like something to eat”? 

We walked together to the closest restaurant, a short block around the corner
 People looked strangely when we walked in together, but I personally knew the owner
 This poor man had worn out shoes on his feet, unclean pants and wore an old army jacket with holes 
It didn’t bother me to be seen with this man, for I could see he had such a broken soul
 
We sat there together in my friend’s café at a small table with two chairs
 I asked him if we could talk a little, then he began to tell me his despair
 I asked him if he’d share his name, he told me it was Sam
 I looked into those lonely eyes, those eyes of a broken man

Copyright © Anne P. Murray | Year Posted 2012

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