I've been praying for a sign
But I've been pretending not to see
Claiming I can't read
Yet here I am, dumbstruck on the ground
Knocked off my feet
And there is no easy way to piece your life together
All we can do is have hope
And you've always given me hope
You've always been my wistful hope

Seperate from societies norm we mingle on the streets.
We live in tents, cars, doorways, many sleep on the concrete.
In towns, cities, ghettos, amoung regular folk to societies elite.
We notice anger, fear, disgust on the faces that pass us by.

Every so often a civilian stops to lend a much needed helping hand.
Offering items for norishment, warmth, pets, showing compassion, they seem to understand.
More often its the police with a complaint telling us to disband.
We move on spoiling someone elses day for the space we occupy.

Some of us are lost, alone, mentally ill, no family that gives a ****.
Drug addicts, alcoholics, displaced vets, regular people who lost it all to a scam.
Children, runaways, women who were abused, some don't care, some with plans.
Visible, yet feeling invisible we help one another minute by minute barely getting by.

I helped dozens of homeless people today just like I do everyday.
My chioces are lost in the time it takes to survive and help others along the way.
I can't complain as I have God to help me to make it through each day.
He gives me strength, comfort and peace as people pass unable to look me in the eye.

The feeling that comes over me when I give to someone like me...
Humble comes to mind, so does joy; only when I give do I feel truly free.
That is when I feel at one with God and totally 100% right with me.
Being homeless is ******* ones spirit; the pain I see often makes me want to cry.

As the days became years I see that God has a purpose for me here.
Sometimes I wonder what it is other times it's perfectly clear.
I find I do a lot better when I keep the Good Book near.
I praise the Lord, I read his word, I speak his name, I look people in the eye.

There's no denying the need that falls upon people when we're out here.
I'm doing my best to help open people's eyes and make our plight very clear.
Fact is most of us really don't want to live like this...we see alot, live in fear.
The mind very powerful, it feeds the soul with what it sees most it does not deny.

When people look at us with hate, fear, all things foul and without concern for souls.
Takes our hope, self worth leaving emptiness where we may have once been whole.
Products of our environment we get stuck for lack of eyes that see out of this hole.
I pray everyday that each one of us finds the love we need and gives us wings to fly.

.

Words unspoken, dreams unreached
The spell is broken; time's incomplete.
My eyes now closed as you speak to me,
My heart is folded and it's corners weep.
The tears that gather here are not mine,
Just as the rain as it falls belongs to none,
But by the time it's gathered is nearly gone...

Your golden frame which I once held so dear
Trickled between my fingers like the unlucky prospectors
Me, cursing the wind, never saw it coming
For days I could barely breath,
Ive been trying to bring myself to the arms of another
But every time I get close enough I’m reminded of you
A scent carried, or a crack in their smiles,
What a fever this is, this thing called love
Hopefully the right prescription will do the trick,
Enough liquor to drown an ocean,
and rewatching Barbarella for the 10th time
is just what the doctor ordered.

The clouds grew heavy
Their bellies swollen with rain water
They stared at me as I glared back,
My gaze split the sky like a knife
It poured for days.
    
   *  I was a mess,
     I was soaked,
     I was a sponge.*

I tried to ring out all the excess,
All it did was leave me drowning in a puddle
of the parts of myself I no longer needed,
My air tanks ran dry
My body felt heavy
I was sinking for years.
It was hard for me to watch the ones I loved
lowered 6 feet beneath the soil,
It was even harder to look in the mirror
and see a breathing corpse stare back,
My insides were withered like the winter,
All I craved was the heat,
The south was a distant memory,
Fluttered away so many years ago
on a night with the full of the moon and the big of the sky
The sweet song of the willow in the most humble of tunes,
Oh how I have grown now.
Look how these bones have changed.