Walking through the park, his clothes are tattered and his face has been bruised, The cold bench will need to be a slumber for this poor soul, who is continually abused. Society overlooks his plight, he is accused of being lazy, why not just get a job? His mind is frayed, he is in delusion, doesn't know about his next meal, must he rob? Are we that much better, since the roll of the dice favored our fate, can we really be that smug? Can we turn our backs on one of our own, or at any rate, will someone please just offer a hug? His toothless grin reflects years of hardship, his frail frame reminds us of a 3rd world refugee, He didn't choose this situation, he'd love to be just one of us, he needs our help now, can't you see? If he came into money tomorrow, what friends would he gain, that initially kicked him when he was down? Let this be a thought for all, life has no guarantees, it could be us tomorrow wearing that toothless frown.