With Hope Poem by lindsey ashton

“Would you like to help the homeless please? ” he shouts out to the crowd,
His voice is shaking along with his body, his words not very loud.
His skin discoloured with dirt and grime and a blue tinge from the cold,
His eyes are grey and his clothes ragged, his shoes are worn and old.
He rocks backwards and forwards on his heels, up and down on his knees,
Calling out to the people, “would you like to help the homeless please? ”
The public try to avoid him, they look away and walk on by,
They talk to each other, or on the phone ignoring his desperate cry.
His voice is getting weaker, the night drowns out the day,
The air is getting colder, he needs somewhere to stay.
He finally gives up when the frost hit’s the ground,
He walks to the place where no one is around.
Then uncovers his bed of cardboard and rags,
He keeps himself dry with used plastic bags.
He tries to keep warm as he rocks to sleep,
Trying hard not to weep.
Another day over and another yet to come,
Where he begs to the public for money, for a home.
Holding on tight to that last glimpse of hope,
Searching for reasons to help himself cope.
Whatever his reasons for living on the street,
Whatever battle has caused him defeat,
Give him a penny, help him along,
Give him a reason for him to be strong.
Don’t judge him for why he sleeps under the stars,
Judge him for trying, show him somebody cares.
With your help he can work hard to better himself,
Get a job, a home, look after his health.
Next time you hear him calling in need,
Pass him a penny, help him succeed.
Look into his eyes, look hard and you’ll find,
That he is grateful for you being kind.
Help the homeless, be happy to know,
That you won’t hear his cry from anyone, anymore.