He looks
sad and lonely, his heart downcast,
And
I’m made to wonder how long he’ll last,
It is
clear that the path he walks is rough,
And
I wonder if he’ll have strength enough
To make
it safely home.
I wonder
what it was that broke his heart,
And
for that matter, when did it all start?
What
brought him to the state that he’s now in?
What
made this stranger the saddest of men?
Is there
for him a home?
Does
he have no one who will share his grief?
Is there
nowhere he can go for relief?
He is
doomed in his sorrow here to dwell,
A poor
wretched soul in a living hell…
That’s
not much of a home.
He never
speaks and I’ve not seen him smile,
In fact,
he’s not moved in quite a long while…
With
a blank look he just stares into space,
There’s
nothing but pain and hurt on his face.
Maybe
soon he’ll go home.
The world’s
full of strangers just like this man,
Though
they ask not, maybe they need a hand;
Someone
who will help them, and cheer their way,
Or just
say, “Hi,” and pass the time of day.
They
want to feel at home.
H.L. Gradowith
01-31-2002