She washed the dishes and scoured the floor,
the laundry folded and left by the door;
Walking away to head back home,
a voice inside then urged her to roam.

There she was on the street at night,
where old and young must battle the blight;
Her blue-gray eyes began to tear,
since just last week she was living here.

Cold and brittle the sidewalks seemed,
it's not a place where many dare dream;
A saving grace took her from this place,
with thoughts of charity she couldn't erase.

Her most humble work is a daily sign,
that folks can truly be decent and kind;
Though tired and worn her hands may be,
safe and secure her work sets her free !