On a street corner he sat in the rain
with ragged pants and a torn shirt, the
rain streaming down his black greasy hair,
A cup held in his hand and a coat of kaki greens,
he was begging for the change that
those who felt sorry for him would give but
most did not see this pitiful, lonely man, there
on the streets all alone, unseen by those
that passed him by.
One of societies rejects, that had no job, no hope,
no sunshine for this man, he lives in a brown cardboard
box, no heat, no real cover, no blankets, no warm bed,
his food is what he can find that day from change kind
strangers gave or the dumpsters behind stores and
restaurant gave up, invisible to the ones that could help
this poor soul, the doctors, lawyers, social workers,
firemen, oh but not the police who shoo them out of
their warm cozy spots sometimes with force.
You, societies people reject this person(s) because they
do not fit your mold, drug addicts, wino's, crazies and
all the awful things in this life is what you see in this one
lone man, but let me be here to tell you not all see this
as they are homeless themselves, families, friends, doctors,
teachers and more who are to old, don't make enough,
unemployed, or they aren't hired because they don't fit
the mold, these are the ones that you see in the streets
in the alleyways, cardboard boxes, abandoned cars, under
bridges and in doorways, they are the invisible ones.
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