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A Stranger

Sometimes we see a stranger, and look at him and wonder why
He is dressed in torn, and tattered clothing, not like you or I With worn out shoes, that have no soles, and a worn out coat full of holes
What is his story? Will it ever be told? The one who looks deep down in his soul,
However, can't seem to make himself whole? No blankets to keep him warm, no shelter from the storm,
Weather beaten skin, hair all stringy and thin, Shaking hands, nails that need to be
trimmed, wearing the same clothes that he slept in. He's lost and afraid, will he make it through another day?
Park benches, street corners, alleyways
Alcohol, shelters, violence, these are all a part of the stranger's day
Judge him not; watch what you do; after this stranger could be you! A smile he tries to muster up, as he holds out his tin cup
He looks at us with hope inside, only to see us hurry by
Closing our ears to the strangers cry Occasionally we will stop, and drop some money in
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6/22/2021 1:27:15 PM #