The Winter Rain
The rain thundered down, on the earth’s head
While we were safe and warm in our bed.
The homeless were freezing, their tents drooping low. Their bedding was soaked, no place to go.
The rains turn to snow, the homeless do cry, “How did I get here? How? Tell me why?”
They’re lost and they’re broken, lonely and cold
Can we really ignore them? Are we really that bold?
There’s food in the fridge, the furnace works fine, our jammies are toasty, the wine is sublime.
People are suffering, freezing out there. We’re doing fine so why should we care?
It could be your brother, your uncle, your son,
So let’s think this again… What can be done?
Elaine Thompson
Parksville