The Homeless
Some homeless began as precious sons and daughters;
loved ones gone astray, others thrown away; a high
price to pay.
Left alone to survive; hard lessons to learn; no choice
they say.
We see them every day; holding up signs on street corners;
present are babies with red leather faces; stolen innocence;
learning their trade; another generation to fade.
The wait outside gas stations, grocery stores, convenience
stores, and fast food places; begging for a dollar.
They are the ones in dark corners; taking drugs to dull their
pain; no refrain; selling their bodies for the price of a bed;
nothing more to be said.
We see them in doorways, under bridges, cardboard boxes
and public parks; no room at the shelter; some prefer outside;
paranoia on the rise.
They wander day after day, passing the time away. With dirty
clothes and bowed heads, they pass us, purposely avoiding
that look in our eyes.
We donate to all sorts of causes, but won't stop to give a
homeless man water.
Who knows what caused them to live this way. Does it really
matter?
There are many who help; do all they can, but so much more
is needed to help our fellow man.
Copyright © Madalyn Rosario | Year Posted 2016
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