Appearance, they couldn't do much.
Battered clothes hang off the shoulders of them.
Conquering the battles of the homeless people was my mission.
Dead people walking is what they seem to be.
Eyes, glass stained from the tears they cried as they walk back down the intersection without a dime more.
Forever will I always lunge my hands out the car window and hear the tickle of the coins pound against the bottom of the cup.
Going and going till they can't go no more.
Home, is what they call the streets.
In and out shelter homes, disliking the life they live.
Just about a thousand scattered across every town.
Kneeling to their knees hoping for someone to hear their cries.
Lost in a world where people just roll up their window as the poor walk on by.
Many don't know the story that ended up having them roam the cold earth alone.
None care enough to ask or show any attention.
Open, no walls to feel secure.
Practically our brothers and sisters we're allowing to walk on by us.
Quest to find someplace to call home.
Rich getting richer as the poor pays.
Solutions should be found to overcome this horrible way of life.
This is so wrong to me.
United is what we should all be.
Value of your life is too precious to risk.
Worries should fade as the solutions are found.
X-ray bones you can see.
You cannot feel their pain.
Zany personalities that have yet been discovered.