The Vulnerable
He looks so small
Huddled in the doorway
Curled up tightly
To keep out the cold.
Head tucked down
In oversize jacket,
Life so young,
Yet worn out and old.
His identity in the
Carrier bag he clutches
The world on his shoulders,
Weighed down with care.
Just one of society’s
Many lost children
Tossed out of her arms
And abandoned to despair.
Yet while he sits
In makeshift haven
To protect his existence
His only goal,
Fate steps in,in the guise
Of passing stranger
Whose kindly smile
Belies an empty soul....
On a lonely hillside
Lies a small body,
Abused and broken
But no longer alone,
For in the warm soil
Between trees and bracken
Mother Earth cradles
One of her own.
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