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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

Self-Less



Invisibility does exist

In ragged coat and rotgut mist

Dodge amongst the prosperous

In run down state that’s not-for-us

Out in weather fine or ill

Escaping barely from the chill

Pushing cart or hauling bag

You see them stoop, their footsteps lag

Collecting cans or hand outstretched

Asleep in bushes, hidden bench

Do not assume they pine for lot

The ones society forgot

Their life is hardly of their choosing

Escaping from the hurts and bruising

In their minds or on their arms

The demons that will do them harm

Running from an unseen phantom

On a journey we can’t fathom

Do not dismiss, nor sneer or cuss

Look closer, they are mirrored us

The only thing that separates

Us from their life are twists of fate

Deserving care and understanding

Unprotesting, undemanding

Only that we try to see

The aid of generosity

May come in form of deep compassion

Rather than indignant passing

In times of trouble and the senseless

It’s how we treat our most defenseless

To care for those that scrap in dearth

Provides the measure of our worth…

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