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