Concrete Bed

Every night he stands

In the alley behind the bar

Watching the world pass by

In front of his shopping cart

His clothes are old and tattered

His beard has grown quite long

He is forced to steal for food

Though he knows that it is wrong

This world is very lonely

And for him it must be worse

I wonder if this poor old man

Feels like he’s living in a curse

He takes it day by day

Just trying to survive

And though he is not dead

He does not feel alive

The world can be so cruel

And people can be too

Some just walk right by him

Is that person you?

It doesn’t make much sense to me

How we can’t feed our own

And how in America a person can live

Without a place to call their home

They say we are the greatest country

But how can it be true

When there are children going hungry

And there is nothing we can do?