The Homeless

I hear their whispers in the night,
whispers of an endless plight.

No shelter from the cold or rain,
each day filled with raging pain.

Left alone to roam the streets,
subway grates their only heat.

Tears of joy once filled their eyes,
now no joy is realized.

Hopes and dreams that were unbound,
lie in ashes on the ground.

And for me the hardest part,
is how we've locked them from our hearts.

We've laughed and joked and gave them names,
adding to our mortal shame.

I think it's time that we should see,
that they are just like you and me.

And that they need no longer roam,
to give the "homeless" back their home.

by Thomas Harvey