Friday, June 18, 2010

Last year my home, was a three bedroom ranch, in your neighborhood,
I sat in the office next to yours,
I attended your church every Sunday.
I sang in the choir.
My son played soccer with your son,
my daughter sold you cookies once.
I mowed you lawn, I carried you groceries to your car,
You gave me a tip.

I live in the park by day,
sleep under the bridge at night.
What you throw away, I pick up and use.
When you walk by, I whisper a prayer,
that you never reach this place I am in.

I raise the food that you buy at the store.
I make the soap that you use in your washer.
I make the clothes that your children wear.
I deliver the paper, that you use to get.

I fought for your freedom,
I fought for your rights,
I fought for your children,
I fought for you future,
I am fighting still.

I am the voice of the sea,
I am the conscious of the land,
I am the eyes of the press,
I am the ears of those hearing the news,
I am the one that shook your hand.

I sing, I dance, I cry, I laugh,
I miss you,
I need you,
I want you back,
Oh spirit of love ,
where have you been?
When will you return?
I am here.


  1. I gather he got a bad loan for his house as well?

  2. Bob, I'm still here, just really busy at the moment, but I'm still reading your posts.

    Hope you are doing well and that home matters are working out.

    Big Hugs, my dear friend.


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