So tall and so slim
sipping alcohol from the brim
Tired but alive, trying to survive
Another day on the street
with clouded bloodshot eyes.
hands are clammy cold and dirty
As he reaches down to take a sip from his fourty
Shakes his cup, looks no one in the eyes
he is too embaressed, but it is no suprise.
He once had a house, cars, and wife
he only wonders what happened to that life.
so cold and alone, no one left to blame
he pick up the needle to releive the pain.
People walk by and call him names
stupid, dispicable, disgusting and lame.
Go get a job you stupid creep
forgetting it is jesus they are leaving on the street.
he lies in his bag every night
remembering the day they rapped and shot his wife.
remembering the rage he felt inside.
remembering the rapist and ending his life.
14 years later, he's tried to find a job
find some money to rebuild his life.
but no one will hire an addict much less
a criminal with murder on his chest.
he made a choice, in a passionate rage
we sit here and judge him
because we are all afraid
That maybe one day we will be the same.
He needs help to see past his situation
he needs someone to help his concentration
He needs a hand to help pull him up
he needs to know grace, love, and touch.
He needs some one to ask him his name
To show him he has purpose
and help deliver him from pain.
2 comments:
Beautiful! Who do you think "someone" is?
I wrote this after i had a conversation with a homeless man downtown chicago. He is apart of a community that my friends and I have been befriending for the past year. He has a horrid past. He has been in and out of prison for violent offenses. I had not seen him for about 8 months, so it was good to talk with him again.
I guess to answer the question, the someone is me, but it is also you, and everyone else who follows Christ.
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