Dear God, why am I stuffed,
While he is dying on the streets?
Dear God, why am I smiling
While he has no shoes upon his feet?
Why is my heart so happy?
When his is so bleak?
Dear God, please help this man
So cold he can hardly speak.
I pray that he will find comfort
I pray he'll find a home
I pray he will find love
I pray he won't be alone
I drop a 20 into his empty coffe cup
He smiles and says "God bless you"
Looks to the heavens above
I just look him and nod, but in my heart and soul
I'm really thinking "God bless him"
Sometimes there are things you can't controll.
A contest entry
- Christmas Prayers by Samplette.
700 points, ended December 6, 2008, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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The beginning is a nice prayer. Our "Why's" make us human. One line has a typo I think, "While he is dying the streets?" Mybe missing "on". Anyway, thank you for entering the contest. I will reread at judging.
Sam
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this is so sad. it really capture how I felt when i went to New York and saw beggars hoping for just one dollar, addicts shooting up cocaine in a dark alleyway and street performers singing about being hopeful when they themselves are seemingly hopeless. Great poem, good luck.
Cassie
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