Homeless

You wake in a cardboard box smelling odorous,
You find scraps from a meal, three nights old,
The book you own is to use as paper
To clean and dry yourself as best you can.

Alone and cast aside as a leper,
Unwanted like a diamond with a flaw,
You drift and look for a warm heart, serving
Hot soup from memories of your mother’s stove.

You rummage for a warm coat, a sign of hope,
For some ornament of human charity,
You search amid the privileged with furtive skill,
Shielded from view, to save what pride remains.

They cast nets of frothy camouflage over you,
To label you an enigma unworthy of living,
With avarice they cling to their possessions,
Living in a cloak of false intentions.

Now, take heart in God’s intentions for you,
He will crown you out of your poverty,
And shelter you in the comfort of home,
With the love of your eternal family around.