To The Homeless Guy On The Side Of The Road

"One approximation of the annual number of homeless in America is from a study by the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, which estimates between 2.3 and 3.5 million people experience homelessness." ("Facts and Figures: The Homeless PBS.org)

Yes, we are our brother's keeper. We are morally responsible for acknowledging and doing something about the suffering of those who, for whatever reason, are drowning right around us. Sometimes it is enough to simply stop and have a conversation. To say, "Hello. Have a good day." To acknowledge that the individual who is begging for your money and/or your attention could just as easily be you or someone you love. So, to all who read these words, Be blessed, and remember, today you might be on top of the world. Tomorrow the world might be on top of you.

To The Homeless Guy On The Side Of The Road
I try not to make eye contact

with you because if our eyes were

to meet, I might actually see inside

your soul.  And the thought of being

that close to the essence of you scares

me, so each and every time I turn away

or I simply focus on the words you’ve

written on your sign.

Before, your sign said,

“Help!  I’m homeless,” and before that “I’m hungry.  Can you

spare some change?”  Now, your sign simply says “God Bless.”

You ask for nothing—you simply shuffle around in some

bizarre dance, arms flapping like a strangled bird.

Each day you and your sign haunt me.  I

worry that if I see your eyes, if I really look into them

I will find that you are no con man, no flim flam artist

but a man whose down on his luck and has no greater

wish than to make me smile and send God’s blessings

my way—and for that, you neither want nor desire for

me to pay.

The other reason I never meet your eyes is because I don’t

want to see that you need more from me

than some nickels and dimes.  I’m worried that

to see your soul I’ll see a reflection of the souls of my dad,

my uncles, my brothers or my cousins who

 by fates chance never ended up

on the side of the road hoping God or some kind lady

would offer them a look—a glance. 

So I don’t look at you because I don’t have

time to be my brother’s keeper. Not today.  I’ve got schedules

to keep and deadlines to meet and for me to take on

your problems on top of my own

is way too much. 

So I look away.

I look away. 

© Angela Jackson-Brown

Read more by Angela Jackon-Brown: Drinking From A Bitter Cup

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