Laying on city benches, we see them everyday, in the sweltering heat and endless pouring rain In their shame they ask of their working neighbors, For a nickel on a dollar, a small token of their labors, And in our shame, we replied with a judge's eye, While holding fast our lifestyles, it's Our nickels we prize, We say "no" to these beggars,and the homeless with no regard, To their adverse condition, we the industrious want no part, But look in the mirror, at the image we will see, An image of Our Shame; an empty person; a wannabe. This is a lifestyle that I swear is a calling, Amid circumstance causing, sudden and appaling, It begins with a thought of hopelessness and fear, Then a disconnect from family and friends, so dear, Then, each day they wonder; when, where, why and how, While wearing the same clothes, dirty, unshaven; and now The streets are their home, living with the sun, rain and snow, They beg and steal leftovers, carrying their lives in makeshift tow, Food, water,and baths are scarce, but before you blame, look in the mirror...damn you! We caused this...Our Shame. We lost many a family and friends because of this condition, And now we have a chance to reflect on our position, To remedy the plight of all people in low places, who are bewildered, lost, alone; oft tears on their faces, they gave up on their queries to find meaning to life, To the answers they need to relieve themselves from strife, Now...think about it...do you see the irony of it all? We all face questions that are unanswered, like a brick wall! So look in the mirror, tell me now, what do you see? No longer Our Shame, but healing faces and our souls set free.