HOME

Back in my day, we used to call them 'bums'. It made it so much easier to ignore and have no connection to them because we were better that they. Cynical? perhaps..but isn't it true?

How many times have you passed someone by and not dared look them in the eye in fear they would actually speak to you..take time out of ypur busy day to acknowledge the lump of flesh actually could be human. Back the they were relatively few so you needn't worry about any possible interaction with them, but things changed somewhere. We lost our mind and our humanity and we wonder how to fix such a huge problem. They are a multitude waiting n the 2nd coming of Jesus to be fed and released from the depravity of a life forsaken. I wish I was rich so that I could feed , clothe and house them all..question is? Would I? Or once rich and having gotten mine, would I forget them? I don't know...

"HOME is where you hang your hat.."

Dementia has taken hold of my feet,

And my mind has left the beaten path.

The music plays,

and my ears hunger.

I am unsane,

and the world is crazy..

Still,

I am fine..though,

I feel lazy.

There is a dam in my head,

Where the clarity of words like water,

Once flowed.

Now,

Remains only sludge thickened by worry.

So I read some..

and I walk a little.

I see you,

Standing, talking to yourself..or perhaps not yourself.

I know you're not crazy,

Or homeless,

You are just too free for four walls to contain.

You are one of the candles..

My mother said,"God has an immense, magnificent room..

full of many beautiful candles. Some very short, different sizes,

some very tall. And when the flame is spent, then your soul goes home to God."..

Her candle went out one day.

She went home.

Many candles have no home..

'Til the light burns out.