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IT'S HARD TO IMAGINE
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The rain is coming down on me, It splashes on my feet, The wind is blowing harder, I'm tired and feeling weak.
I have to keep on walking, As the tears roll down my face, If only there was someone here, To gladly take my place.
My coat is torn and ragged, All I own is in a bag, If I keep up all this madness, Around my toe will be a tag.
I listen to the rumble, Of the cars out in the street, I only hope tomorrow, I can find something to eat.
My bed is made of cardboard, Beside a rubbish can, I think about my past life, When I was a happy man.
The pictures that I carry, Resembles me some how, It's hard for me to imagine, The way that I look now.
There's a picture of my daughter, When she was 6 years old, But work was hard to get back then, So we were put out in the cold.
I gave my little girl away, So she could have a life, And then God took the only thing left, My dear departed wife.
So I guess I'll keep on going, Until I'm at my journey's end, And when my life is over, God will be my only friend.
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© alice donatelli |
Mar, 24, 2006 |
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Dedication: |
there is so many homeless familys out there just because they didn't have enough money to survive a life style that america says they should. in the next ten years homeless familys will triple in numbers. and the frighting thing is, it could be us. |
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