TITLE: The Least of these My Brethens By lynn gipson 04/19/12 |
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The Least of These My Brethrens
Nights long and so cold
Teeth chattering, tears flowing
Prayers being said
Without apparent answers
Days filled with hunger
Desperate eyes
Fear, loneliness
Clothes filthy and tattered
Looks of disgust
From their fellow men
Begging for money
To feed themselves
Or their families
Shame engulfs them
Every time they
Put out a hand
Gratitude fills their hearts
For every coin received
Aimlessly walking
Through this world
Grieving for their past
Lives gone terribly wrong
They cry and no one hears
They hurt and no one sees
They freeze to death
They starve to death
Doesn’t anyone care?
Some are war heroes
Some are cowards
Some are lost
Some not wanting to be found
Some are addicts
Some alcoholics
Some mentally ill
Some are Saints
Some are sinners
All are our brothers
And sister’s in Christ
There but for
The grace of God
Go we
And who knows?
That last homeless one
You passed on the street
May have been Jesus
Asking for food
Just as he did the widow
And remember what He said
“Be kind to these,
The least of these my brethrens“.
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