See that homeless person sitting on the bench
See how they look and how they flench,
While you mock them and say they are stinking
I wonder what God is thinking.
You mock and ridicule the clothes that they wear
You make fun on their unkept hair,
Then you say their current situation is their own fault
As in their wounds you rub salt.
See that homeless person lying on the bench at the park
See them sleeping in the elements after dark,
You tell others that they should get and get a job
Never one tear for them do you ever sob.
Do you think when they were young girls and boys
Do you think that they were raised like you with plenty of love and toys,
You think they had the opportunity as you I suppose
But, God knows.
See that homeless person that you walked past and did ignore
Did you know they served our country in a war,
Did you know the other one was molested and used by a parent
And that other homeless person mental disease was inherent.
My mom always spoke these words from her soul unto me
Whenever or wherever a homeless person that I might ever see,
Pretend they are your sister or brother or daughter or son
Then how would you want a stranger to treat them everyone.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem