The Stranger. Poem by Ray Sinclair

Lost all hope, no respite to be found,
early hours, problems compound.
Lying awake, no one hears you weep,
unconscious sanctuary, oh, blissful sleep.


Heart broken open, emotional bleed,
feeling a burden to those you need.
Brink of destruction, edge of despair,
desperate struggle, really don't care.

No where to run, want somewhere to hide,
outstretched hand, I'm here to guide.
Eyes of warmth, soul so old,
'Come back from the edge' that's what you're told.

A stranger appears with words that uplift,
they see their self, they see your gift.
An earthy angel when you'd lost all hope,
for that moment in time, when you couldn't cope.

On the bridge of faith, a stranger was met,
kindness and courage they eased your threat.
No expectation, humility and grace,
endeavour to be the stranger whilst you inhabit this place.


Written by Ray Sinclair on 21/11/15
© November 2015