w c

My Homeless Brother

My Homeless Brother

 

My brother was at a traffic light

As he was every day

Hoping someone might decide

To have pity and give him pay

 

Sometimes he cleaned windows

Or sold a rose or two

He always in his filthy clothes

Whatever he might do

 

Each day was a performance

Though he did not overact

And the pay was never enormous

But each day he’d be back

 

Some had cardboard signs

And he sometimes used one too

With just a couple lines

Asking for money to buy food

 

There was conflict with the police

And he sometimes landed in jail

But there he got relief

From the big city hell

 

Sometimes he was lucky

And made it to a homeless shelter

Where he got free hot meals

From the many helpers