The homeless cannot sleep on cold nights, some gather around burning barrels, men, women and children, forgotten, shattered and despised by those who are more fortunate… those who have a home, a job. In the distance, you may hear a baby cry. Mothers’, Fathers’ are begging for food, living on the streets, no jobs, the family no longer sound.
Government talks end up in contradictions, a lifetime of poverty is the homeless prediction. The spirit freezes, fruit of labors rot, life squeezes and struggles persist. Bad luck smothering heart and soul, hope ceases to exist. Shifting winds turn into storms, will the world grow wiser or beaten back into servility? Trust departed, a cardboard box in the streets is where the homeless make their beds, hope disappears and the future appears dead. Wake up America!