Alas, poor homeless hobo
Crashes through a cruel and hopeless life.
One pitiful, unpopular no one,
Crashes solo into darkest strife.
Discovers mercy on anyone's cushioned couch,
Bitter askance behind a cement garage,
Seems invisible as need crashes compassion,
Tucked in slumber beneath greed's lodge.
Accused of crashing from some induced high
Of a burdenless, restless free,
Tumbles into arms of pitiful charms
And smug generosity.
Forgiveness creep-rushes, crashing in
To love wash without reserve,
And pours over those who kindness chose
Most worthy to deserve.
Alas, poor homeless hobo
Crashes into His glorious light,
Beloved child, God's precious someone,
Claims His safety from eternal night.
-P.S. Colley
Summer 2024
Cries of the Unheard
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