The man walked, shuffled,
Through blisters & sores.
His shopping cart stutters
Past the laden stores.
He's lost his mind
On rocky shores
He had hopes and
Dreams galore
Now he can't find them
Anymore.

In the land o' plenty
The woman lives hard.
Barely feeding her kids
With a food-stamp card.

The soldier lost limbs,
Now he's alone.
He is "housed"
But has no home.

[chorus]

We know the rhyme.
We know the riddle.
But they still get caught
In the middle.

Caught in the cracks
The streets for some.
Cement & sky
Is not a HOME.

Emily sits upon the stoop.
Goes to kitchens to get soup.

Michael lives.
He breathes.
He talks.
But he sleeps
In a cardboard box.

[chorus]

They're called vagrants.
They're called bums.
Labels they can't overcome.

Like wooden ships
Their only sea
Is in a bottle
They can't break free
Where's your HEART, society?
Where's your SOUL?

Your EMPATHY?

BRIDGE:
We must repent.
We must atone.
We ALL are guilty
To the bone.
We must help them

FIND A HOME.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 6/8/2017

Grayed hair.
Upon his head.
Hands.
Wrinkled.
From years of hard labour.
Which gave him joy.

For his daughter in need.
He labours in love.
With brush and paint.
Nail and hammer.
Wood and saw.
He fixes what was warped.
And in need of repair.
He longs to fix her wounded heart.
But knows he can't.
So he commits her into the hands
of the Master Builder.
Who fixes broken souls.

He does what he can.
For his daughter in need.

With grayed hair upon his head.
He labours in love.
With brush and paint.
Nail and hammer.
Wood and saw.
With his work-weary.
Wrinkled hands.
With his hands.
Of love.

Standing beside you, I ponder...

...was the grass always this green and lush?
...has the baby blue sky seemed this vast before?
...where have these infinite possibilities arisen from?
...is my hand too sweaty to hold?
...have the stars forever shone this brilliant?
...where does time go?
...how does her smile warm me like the radiance of the sun?
...will my face crack from smiling this hard?
...is it possible to love her any more?
...how can I prove it to her?

I'll figure it out, I'll find a covered porch and a glider or a pair of rocking chairs. I'll count the cars and admire her hair in the breeze blowing between our knees as the future unfolds itself out of thin air.
A love I've never felt before,
a beautiful pair...

"what're you thinking about?"

Oh! Me?
I'm just thinking about...