The Homeless Hero Poem by Ryan Lee Morris

The homeless man, sits on the street,
As he ponders ways to cope.
The challenges he faces seem like a mountain,
But the man holds on to hope.
A life once together, now apart,
He sits at his life's bottom.
The commuters pass as he asks for help,
They stare at him like he's rotten.
They do not know his story,
It seems they do not care,
For although they have so much to give,
There's nothing that they will share.
He looks for the light at the end of the tunnel,
His tunnel, dark and bleak,
The man once, a brave strong soldier.
Now he sits there cold and weak.
He fought in a far off country,
It's what he was asked to do,
To free others from their oppression.
Now the man he owns no shoes.
It was one day the man he was saving a child.
When a bullet severed his spine.
The child asked if the man was okay.
He smiled and said "I'm fine."
He was sent home to no welcome.
For his country he tried to make proud.
But now he sits in front of a sign,
That reads, "No bums allowed"
His story is like many others.
But no one cares to hear.
The man who saved so many,
Now lives in constant fear.
I dream of one day, a better world,
Where true heroes get their reward.
Not for the ones who sent him there,
But those who went on their own accord.
Fight for those who fought for you.
So in comfort you could sleep.
Do not fight for all the wolves who hunt.
Fight to protect the sheep.
For one day, that man, he might be you.
Your dreams might slip away.
And that man who you frown upon on the streets,
Might be the one who saves your day.