HOMELESS
To whom do they belong, the homeless on the street,
Do they have no one that would them lovingly greet?
Lost and forsaken, not one human who does really care,
I wonder what cruel circumstances sent you out there?

Maybe someone’s restless child that went too far astray,
By the rules of the home could not, or would not stay,
Thought that she did not need her loving family at all
And would rather die than return, yes, in the snow fall.

Are some hearts aching, as they search for the one lost?
A homeless soul to proud to return home, at what cost!
Or just too stubborn to return and live the laws of home,
Or literally and cruelly, completely desolately alone.

I look into the faces of those that I passed slowly by,
Saw the different looks in the vacant orb of each eye,
Misery, hope, disillusion, fear, resentment or hate,
What precious gifts are lost? Parents, children or mate.

I cannot condemn them, or feel pity, but help if I can,
For one never knows that I will be there, not by plan
But circumstances that happen beyond anyone’s control,
It maybe my refining fire to help make me whole.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson June 6, 2004