Author: Mark Spencer


Jaredís father was abusive,
And beat him every day.
The boy escaped his world with drugs,
In time, he lost his way.

By thirty, he was on the streets,
And no one seemed to care.
Passers by would look right through him,
As though he wasnít there.

They asked police to run him off,
With the rest of his kind;
Believing in the old proverb:
ďOut of sight, out of mind.Ē

And as he roamed from place to place,
Rejection lay in wait.
Save for some good Samaritans,
Who tried to change his fate.

But they had not enough support,
To do what must be done,
To lead this lamb into the light
Emitted by the Son.

And so, one cold, dark winterís night,
Jared breathed his last breath.
The steps of a police station
Is where he froze to death.

This problem will not go away,
It cannot be ignored.
It wonít be swept under the rug,
Or hidden from the Lord.

As you have done unto others,
Along this road youíve trod,
Even the least of your brethren,
You have done it to God.

For none are better than the next,
In their Creatorís eyes.
And any who might disagree,
Are just clinging to lies.

So when you next avert your gaze,
Away from wayward souls,
Remember how it might have felt,
If God reversed your roles.

For those who were the first on earth,
Will be last evermore.
And all shall reap what they have sown,
When they reach heavenís door.

Ignore these words, if you so choose,
The Lord gave you that right.
But donít pretend there is no cause,
If you must face this plight.

The homeless live upon our streets,
While most ignore their plea.
And those who have the means to help,
Pretend they do not see.


Comments on this poem/writing:

Meridian ( -- Friday, November 2 2007, 07:29 pm

Always got the rhymes

You are right on target with this one! You are published correct? You should be, talented as you are!

Bipedalguy ( -- Friday, November 2 2007, 09:16 pm

Right on

You reached me with this one. It's an important message, expressed in a powerful way.
(very beautiful poetry)
shiloh ( -- Wednesday, November 7 2007, 04:34 am


sadly, the homeless are as much a part of this, the richest country, as are the sidewalks upon which they sleep. our priorities are wrong - space stations and billions for war should be secondary to taking care of our own, but no one in washington seems to see it that way - just take a look at the hot air grates on the d.c. sidewalks there, where the homeless live in winter.
Russ ( -- Wednesday, December 26 2007, 06:59 am

America likes to pretend it doesn't have problem

America likes to pretend it doesn't have problems. We send money to homeless families, homeless children in other countries, but we rarely take care of our own. How can a person send $30.00 a month to the Christian Children's Fund, while closing their eyes to the starving Americans on our own streets? Great poem!
Name:                                           Remember Me

Comment Title:

Comment / Ammendment:

Please complete the recaptcha below for spam prevention:

Click here to read other Poems by Mark Spencer


Poetic Dreams Other's Poetic Dreams Submit a Poem New This Week Forum Home

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail:  so the proper person may be notified.