After work I rush down the stairs at the subway station,
I see a troubled man clothed in rags stained with dirt.
He starts asking for some money so he can eat tonight.
I quickly and carefully place some money in his hand;
While I do this, I guard my purse like a watch dog.
Some scumbags like to steal from others down here.
Then he thanks me and we board the crowded car.
Rush hour is upon us, so everyone is in a big rush.
We both go our separate ways and I hope he is ok.
I wonder whether he will have a place to sleep tonight,
or if the cold, filthy pavements outside are his only bed.
No roof or walls to call a home and no clean water.
I wonder if he will be able to grab any food after tonight,
or if he can find warmer clothes that are clean to wear.
After all, it is winter and the streets are as cold as Alaska.
Since I am not sure what else I can do now that he is gone,
I pray for him and hope for the best for him and for others.
I know he is not the only homeless person around here.
As I go home tonight on the subway I am also thankful.
Thankful for everything that I have been given in this life.
While others out there are struggling to survive in the dark.
1 comment:
So touching.
It's a real shame, especially when one can never be sure who is genuinely in need and who is...not.
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