Poetic Sermons

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Life Story #12

Another day, another corner block after block
Fair or foul weather, be it cold or hot
One day he is over here the next day over there
He never really talks, just stands and stares
Misplaced and unsure but at the same time
He seems to have something on his mind
His clothes not really worn, shoes not really old
He holds a big cup of water but it's not very cold
Is he hungry, is he homeless, drunk or on drugs
Living on the streets among crazies and thugs
It seems to be the case at least at first glance
What story would he tell if he had the chance
Would you believe he is rich in stocks and bonds
He sleeps on silk sheets not benches and lawns
He doesn't panhandle if that's what you think
He doesn't do drugs, doesn't smoke or drink
Born of a teen mother who left him for dead
Wrapped in a bloody towel, tucked in s shed
An old farmer found in and kindly took him in
Raised him and educated him like his own kin
Treated him like a son, taught him how to invest
Then he died suddenly from a pain in his chest
Pay it forward was the last thing the farmer said to him
So he made up his mind right there and then
There will always be a place for troubled mothers to go
Where they can get help when they just don't know
And a place for the elderly living all alone
Can enjoy the comforts of an affordable home
Where the hungry can come get something to eat
Some fresh clothes to wear and new shoes for their feet
So he roams the city scouting opportunities
And gathering information about neighborhood needs
He dressed humble, to keep everyone real
And he works only community leaders to make his deals
If your life started as hopeless and someone pulled you though
And asked you to pay it forward what would you do
J. Moore

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Life Story #12