Homeless

We walk by them every day,
On the streets where they lay,
No home which to call their own,
To very few they are known.

Some are children this we see,
Driven out by family,
No one there to provide them with care,
Just people who will stop and stare

Some are old and some are young,
But we just see them as street bums,
We don’t give them time of day,
As we go along the way.

If only we would stop and talk,
And find out which path they walked,
Maybe we would see within,
These people that are our kin.

For some have lived such troubled lives,
Not just bums full of lies,
Some from harm have had to flee,
From their so called families.

Liz