Rows of daisies, so similar
Happy harmony of birds
The Sabbath route, too
Familiar face;
The man with no home
Through sunlight and dark
Sitting always
A silent beg. He waves.
Before i gesture my shoulder tugs
As mum drags me
Away in the distance
The holy house sings
Calling our presence
Luring us
Come to protect and guide
the fragile soul within,
the mind and body
Outside, foreseeing misery to befall
Clouds gather in Gods hand
All eyes telling the story
Of where once sat the homeless
A crimson puddle surrounds
So still, so surreal
Making no
Sounds behind grow frantic
As God himself appears to weep
Why did He sanction such suffering
Destined to eternal
The angel, the dignity
of the man who did no wrong,
His silent beg,
Gone.



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