Rainstorms remind me to be more thankful
When caught in this disappointed handful
For the time that I spent alone on the streets
Now inside my home when it snows or sleets
Grateful to God giving praise when I pray
Behind locked doors where the wolves are at bay
Having a new roof and a warm cozy bed
With good hot meals and a place for my head
Some are still standing in the long soup line
Smelling like wet dogs and cheap screw cap wine
It’s choices they made of their own choosing
Most are smart men who’d rather be boozing
There are new families with kids in soup lines
Victims of lost jobs or the banks some combined
With a clean conscience, not judging, only examine
Is it a lack of faith, sin, trials or predetermined
We are the instruments of His ordained works
If we don’t help who’ll do the framework?
Offer aid and assistance when you can
We are all saved by grace and His plan
©2012 Michael Yost 3/18
Michael's Lair 
It’s not easy to be humble enough not to judge people. Beautiful lesson.
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Thanks and let all the eyes and ears be balanced.
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Indeed, too many are homeless and nothing to judge. If it’s an indictment against anyone it’s us as a society and not the individuals who are either working out personal issues or who are victims. I’m glad you are housed now, Michael. Nice to see you back on line too. Warmest regards, Jamie
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It’s hard to celebrate the presence when other family members and friends are still battling their demons. All I can do is to be example because words and encouragement fall on deaf ears.
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I’m sorry to hear that, Michael. You are doing the right thing though.
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Thanks.
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Michael, I believe you sent me a poem on poverty to use in the September issue of “The BeZine” … thank you. Would you please send it to us at bardogroup@gmail.com along with a brief bio. Thanks!
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