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Monday, October 5, 2020

I once was blind....

It's easier to help those we don't know.. 


Why is it ..that..we, so readily, cry out.. in great protest

About the homeless, the displaced and the pitiful rejects

While we won't ever  blink an eye at the closer by

Our own family members that we continue to deny?


We claim we're not a follower or some blind sheep

That..we have our own minds and own souls to keep 

But let someone us tell us that we should stay away

We will do so blindly and without delay


So, who is the real beggar, lingering, there.on our road:

The homeless... the wino ....the addict growing old...?

Or is it a sister a brother or a friend we've let go

Because someone with wrong intentions has told us to do so?





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