Wealthy Faith

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God's watching me.  I heard his voice for the first time, today. He took the form of this homeless man at a corner stop light in Columbia .  He held a sign  Said "No money, just prayer"  I knew I had seen him before. He had been there before. Wearing the same torn cotton as last week. He looked weak.  He had no teeth.  An overgrown beard was his only blanket throughout the night  And I thought, What happens when it gets thin? When it reaches the root scaffold of his pointed chin, Would people look at him then? Ignoring him when he opens his mouth but stares, isolating him while he sits breathless  Can he even speak. Was this man i admired, deaf mute? Or Did he, Chose not to hear the world's whispers anymore Did he not want the destruction of society, to wake him in the early yawns of the morning.  I didn't see him last time we drove by  I wondered where he went Pondered the thought  that he got rich and left. I laughed but I wanted to cry for the missing pieces of knowledge. One single breath on a dark night I felt something wasn't right So I prayed like he begged which was far too silent But I hope god heard me I hoped that this poor man With wealthy faith  bought a house on a constellation. And I hope That I will one day Be able to do as father commands and  love thy neighbor. 

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