The Invisible Homeless

I live in a town where I see more and more people living on the streets, and see more and more people ignoring them and passing by without even acknowledging that they exist.

The invisible homeless:

I will talk of a people who matter, of a people whose plight is so grave.

Not abroad or some far off country, but next door, up the street in the park.

A people that we wish didn’t exist!

A people we see everywhere.

But I ask do we really see them?

Sat in doorways, leaning against walls.

Their hands held out in hope for a penny or two, or a meal.

Their faces show pain, despair, rejection, oppression and shame.

We walk on past trying to pretend they don’t exist.

If we look the other way then perhaps the world will hide them away.

‘Some of them are just chancres’ that may be true,

‘They could get a home if they tried’ many of them have!

‘They’re all just drunks’ well wouldn’t you drink? Wouldn’t you want to drink to destruction to make the pain of the world go away?

So what do we do for these people, do we hold a fundraiser, call the press!

No we walk past pretending we are busy, never meeting their eyes with a gaze.

I don’t have much to offer I tell you, not got stacks of money in the bank.

What I can do I think makes a difference, and I’ll share it with you if you like.

You see each time I pass by these people, I see each one of them when I do.

I may not have money to give them, maybe sometimes I give out a meal, but what I do which I find makes a difference, is I smile, or I nod, or say hello. I don’t try to deny their existence, I don’t try to ignore, or avoid. I know that won’t solve all their problems.  It won’t give them a warm bed to rest.

But at least they will know, they exist now, that someone has seen them today.

It’s a start I think, don’t you?

 

(c) Michael Harris 2016