Trial of homelessness strikes close to my heart
It's s difficult to put down in part
My poor baby daughter a ghost on the street
For a bottle, a meal, she'd ***** men she'd meet

This is such a sad and dangerous way
To live a desperate life everyday
The hardest part was watching her die
Not the life I'd have chosen, wonder why?

She was a very hostile and hurtful drunk
True tough love on my part, how low I had sunk
Muscular Dystrophy was part of her plight
She saw only darkness, was too tired to fight

She seized even while downing her *****
Early scerosis, extended abuse
I cried for her at night, worried all day
She called from jail, detox and a hospital stay

I once had to search for her as Jane Doe
In a panic I found her, back out shed go
I felt so mad, sad and **** confused
My sarah was out there, with who I mused

Homeless are people with heart and soul
Whether they choose or not to live this role
I know from experience that this is true
Sarah is loving, giving.....caring too

She had cried to me that I loved her no more
I wrote her a poem to convince and implore
Her to live and I loved her, I swore

I read her that poem in her hospital bed
We both cried, she'd get help,she actually said
She's now a month sober, attending AA
Happily sarah has a safe place to stay
I pray to the Lord that she finds her way