She sleeps on the sidewalk between the street and the fence,
Our nameless and faceless resident.
Her roof is an umbrella her foundation a tarp
And I drive by her home wondering how she'll stay warm.
She’s lost in a world that seems distant to me,
Her eyes are hallow and her face hard to read.
She’s somebody’s daughter, sister or wife,
And she’s wasting away in her cornered-off life.
I can’t seem to sleep knowing she is covered in snow,
Unsure if she has a warm place to go.
These broken little people who are lost and unseen
And wander the streets with faces unclean,
Are noticed by God and loved by the Father
And He is waiting on us to love one another.
The stretch of His arms and the warmth of His hands,
Waits on our heart and our faith to extend.
As we drive by or walk by or see them in church,
Our lives maybe different but in the same way we hurt.
Longing to be seen, loved and accepted
Pained by mans words and feeling rejected.
Our homes maybe different but our hearts need the same,
A Savior to save us and a friend to remain.
Rather we are a people who sleep on a bed or a tarp
Our deliver sees us and heals the broken heart.
By Holly Ruddock
