Who Is That Stranger?

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


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