He sits alone on the stone flags
Staring at the ground, hungry and forlorn
Unsure of survival from day to day
Wondering why he'd ever been born
The hustle and bustle glides effortlessly past him
A cloak of invisibility shields their conscience
He never asks for change for sustenance
Just wishes this life would make some sense
No dog for a friend, no guiding hand
The public can't see into the windows of his soul
Passers-by unaware of the tragedies of his past
Imprisoned with his demons, on the street, in a hole
There's no charity at home when you're homeless
With a broken heart, there's no love to find
We could all find ourselves in his position
We all need empathy and the conviction to be kind
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