Who gives these people a right to judge?
With fixed opinions, they refuse to budge,
Who are they to put a person down?
Move the homeless out of their town.
Power mas, they couldn’t care less,
Their job, to tidy up the mess.
These bullies only see drugs and drink,
Never have they taken time, to stop and think,
Offer to help or do a good deed,
Just choose to ignore those desperately in need,
Joe’s one, sat in a doorway looking around,
He feels great shame, begging for a pound.
The men approach him, disgust on their faces,
This poor man is cold, hungry, wearing shoes without laces,
To them, he’s just another hopeless case though,
A tramp in a makeshift camp, he’s got to go!
They mock and taunt him, order him to pack up his stuff,
Joe leaves, where now? He’s really has enough!
Walking through the woods, he starts to cry,
Once a brave soldier! Brave? Yes, prepared to die,
He’d been a hero, saved many from death,
Now Joe planned, to take his last breath.
As tears flowed, he felt only misery,
So tightening the noose, he swung from the tree.
Anyone could become homeless one day,
Imagine people staring, then walking away,
Try not to judge, because you never know,
A simple good deed, could save someone like Joe.