Robert Johnson Poet Rhyme

Between the Clouds

A slimmer glimmer of hope these days.
With thoughts misconstrued and mind's in a haze.
We look for help without reaching out.
For any chance we've got is clouded by doubt.

So we wander the streets hoping Jesus will see.
Through the eyes of an angel to help set us free.
As we fall and just lay there.
Empty of faith and lost in despair.

These souls here on earth who vanish and fade.
Are family and friends whose lot's been betrayed.
And things are not always as they might appear.
You think they look brave, but they live in fear.

A penny, a nickel, a dime or a quarter.
Just isn't enough to appease this disorder.
May God show his mercy in the final hour.
And reign down a miracle in a gentle shower.

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Debra Squyres May 28, 2015 at 10:49 AM A striking and memorable portrayal of homelessness and the down trodden. Empathy has found it's voice in your words for these souls.

Jack Horne April 25, 2015 at 7:33 AM thoughtful & thought provoking indeed, my friend

Andrea Dietrich April 24, 2015 at 8:52 AM gosh this is sad, and I see you are telling it as if through the eyes of one of the homeless that wander the street. I've seen some really crazy people wandering the streets. It's really tragic that not even there family is there for them.