You know them, they are on every corner and street.
They're the ones whose eyes you dare not meet.
They have seen the world and its agony,
Most of them are products of its misery,
Some have children and family,
Others have nobody.
They barely survive from day to day,
They are hungry, cold, and have no place to stay.
All they ask is for some aid and charity.
And all we do is shun them from society.
(c) 1993 copyright Elena Plotkin
This is the everyday scene in all the street corners. The question always haunted me is why are they homeless in an advanced country. The country might take care of their basic needs but emotional needs must be satisfied by their children. I feel deeply for the cultural standards and then they can be permanently happy.
A great poem, we should do more, we know the government will never do anything.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for your empathy for the homeless. I thought this was not so common in your country, only our privilege to have them in large numbers in ours. The homeless, wherever they are, need a home. One who builds one for them on earth, God will build one for him in heaven.