Friday, 18 May 2012

Holding his Hand Out

As he lay on the street
Waiting for someone to greet
He hugged himself with hands held tight
His face worn with eyes no sight

As each person walked by
They would look at him and stare
Tutt and sigh
They were on the moral high
He was in the gutter
Begging was all he could to do to survive

Shame was put on him
Whispers haunted his very soul
He wanted more than these people could see
He wanted what others could not feel

Time was his friend
He held it close
He seen what others could not
As they ran back and forth in haste

His cup was empty
His tired body was too
No one held their hands out to aid him
In his time of need

All except for a small boy who asked him how he was
His mother said leave him where he is  
I want to talk to him he is the same as you and me
He just doesn’t live from the honey tree

He has it hard
He was probably once like you and me
Time changed his life for now
Mum hold out your helping hand
Do not let his life be sucked away
In to the quicksand

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