by Profe Steve
You see him everywhere Every corner of your city, Do you see? Do you care He isn’t looking for pity.
Tattered, vulnerable, gray, Haunted by demons and fear, Nightmares stalk each day Crying out. Who will hear?
Voices that torture his mind, Hands that tremble and shake, Eyes that seek someone kind, Knees that tremble and quake
Don’t walk by, don’t look askance Don’t leave him cast aside. Pause a moment, take a chance, He’s a real person inside.