PEOPLE OF GOD

These people, this institution
Who sleep on the street
Have been termed citizens
But do they get that treat?
Their life is rough, as rough can be
From railway line, to the airport street
They see dreams, like a man should see
But their every dream is mere fantasy
They come from the villages with big’ol hopes
But what do they find they end up on the roads
They sometimes think what were their wonder goals
But when they look bellow their hands carry a bowl
They are human beings they have a soul
They also have children who Play Street ball
Their very morning is the same
With a bowl in their hand and calling god’s name
By singing melodies they try to get the attention
Of the people who pass by giving them something handsome
People say “some work you do.”
But I ask, “who gives them work do you?”
In the day so bright and the sun scorching high
Sometimes standing standing they say goodbye
And sometimes they want to go but do not die
They are humans but we treat them like mice
People O people don’t you realize?

Zain.H.yusuf