Lend an Hand

In the streets of suffering the leaves crest,

Your heart is pounding in your chest,

As crows await the night at dusk,

cigarette smoke and vanilla musk,

intermingles with the rotten air,

strange noises coming from everywhere,

Welcome to the world that they ignore,

The living quarters of the poor,



In the valley of exclusion the hermits mourn,

They hide their face to ease the scorn,

That hails down from the upper class,

Who are snuggled up in beds of brass,

As the simple homeless wander the street

Just hoping for a bite to eat,

And a place to keep them warm,

Do they disserve a verbal storm?

To darken the hopes that are already bleak,

Who are you to hurt the weak?

Needing help they turn to us,

And at my school without a fuss,

A woman is doing all she can,

To lend a hand to a homeless man,

Who looks for bottles, every day,

Just so he can get some pay,



In the dream of redemption, an old man smiles,

Bouncing back  may have it’s trials,

But they can do it, they can be saved

After all the things they’ve braved

Getting up is a piece of cake,

Compared to everything at stake,

So give a dollar, maybe two,

It’s funny what spare change can do,

Let’s take that man from your back street,

And help him get back on his feet