Homeless Poem by Annie Janine

A quarter? A dime? A penny? Anything? he begged
I looked into his clear blue gray eyes
and saw strait into his soul

I reached into my pocket for some change
he saw me
and walked over

'god bless you' he says
as I hand him a quarter
'When you see your mother, I want you to hug her
and tell her thanks for everything'

It was then that I saw
how he was bleeding inside
'my mother was shot 30 years ago and I never had a chance to tell her that' he grimaced

it was then that he told me his story
he had been in prison
but he had done nothing wrong
he was hungry
he was tired

I reached into my pocket once again
my hand trembling and gave him a dollar

he shook my hand and said
'you will do great things'

and I looked into those eyes again
those windows into his soul
and saw the cold hard truth
pure as rain






I want you