Saw a guy sitting there, with his hat held out.
Saying nothing, head held down, what does he think about?
Waiting for a helping hand to make it through the day.
I’m sure this little bit of change will not make it go away.
Bright blue eyes and unwashed hair, thank me in return.
A blessing I have a better day, I could from what I’ve learned.
I turn away, get in my car and leave to go back home.
Imagining life on the street, nowhere but to roam.
Will he know when he’s gone that his life was really hard?
Does anyone live a life that doesn’t leave a scar?
Every person has an empty hat held out on different days.
Can we recognize ourselves in there and help along the way.
Jill Fitz 05/20/12