The Helpless Souls

The Helpless Souls

Come rain,
Come sun.

You’ll find them
Coming out of their den
Praying to their creator for favor
Among we that labor

Old and young, beautiful and ugly
Tall and short, clean and filthy
I see them everyday,even in my dreams….
I guess it’s how life seems

Helpless poor souls
The sun burns their skins like hot coals
The rain drenches their bones
My heart cries for them alone

They are beggars
Treated like ciphers
The helpless souls
Always stretching for alms on the road

Like a poet said,
They are “homeless but not hopeless”
I feel they are helpless
And deserve better

I pray for them
I pity them
But i know….one day
They’ll find peace

In a place where they beg no more
Where i pity them no more
A place where I’ll smile with them
And dine and rejoice with them.

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