Homeless

Homeless, abused, dirty, cold, and scared,
beaten, demeaned, avoided, or left for dead.
Words like this can go on a long time,
when thoughts of the homeless flow through my mind.

There are not enough resources in the world to ease all of their pain,
but we have to start somewhere to see what can be done, is what I say,
and so do the organizations and the people that help them everyday
to ease the burden of the homeless in their various ways.

There is the Covenant House, which is expressly for teens,
whose job it is to protect them from harm, to provide a warm meal,
or Clare House that shelters the abused women that wind up there,
and their children, and even the unborn lives that they bear.

There are food banks and kitchens like Downtown Soup Kitchen and Beans,
and missions just for men, or those who will take in whole families.
You’ll find crucial centers like these in most cities across the land
where the homeless or the jobless or the abused congregate for care.

I share the feeling of knowing just a little of what they go through,
though it is only the tiniest fraction of the hardships that those souls have endured.
You might ask, but how could that ever possibly be,
for one who seems to live a life of privilege like me?

How could such a sweet, pretty lady ever know of the pain,
or the hopelessness, fear and heartbreak that they feel every day?
I lower my eyes, swallow my pride, and humbly say that I do,
for though the toll was far gentler on me, I have been one of them too.

With grace from above I was blessed to have incredible friends
who kindly made room in their loving homes just to help me,
and spared their time to ease my physical illness and heal my emotional pain,
so I would be able to stand back up firmly on my own once again.

My feelings will always run deep for the homeless, to see what more can be done,
and I ask you to say your prayers for them, it truly does help, I would know.
My website of poetry is a cyber-street where their story can have a home and be told,
and I ask you to share what you can, for it will truly circle back to you, one-hundred-fold.

Note: this poem was first conceived as an avenue to help Covenant House in Anchorage, but there are so many more that need your help, everywhere in the world, that is naturally expanded to embrace all of them as I wrote it. The poem is dedicated to all of those loving souls who are willing to help those in the world less fortunate than they are, anywhere on the globe. No matter how small your volunteer deed, donation, prayer, or how it is you’ve shown that you’ve tried, your actions so kind will always be the biggest objects of affection in my dark brown eyes.