In the distance, there's a fire,
that some people huddle round.
Cardboard slats and dirty blankets,
are spread out on the ground.
The trashcan stove is glowing,
embers rising in the skies.
Passersby aware and knowing,
hurry quick, avert their eyes.
It's cold for early April,
there is ice formed on the ground.
Each resident under the bridge,
braves wind without a sound.
Despair and fear weigh heavy,
of a virus that brings death.
Though life is hard, it's precious,
every moment, every breath.
It's hard to social distance,
when comfort comes from those,
who share this plight together
Without judgement cuz they know.
What will you do when you see them?
From six feet away and more.
Indeed what can we really do?
Sheltered, scared behind our door.
Remember when you're bored,
complain that life's turned upside down.
There are people who are hungry,
and who sleep out on the ground.
Stop and think of others,
if there's something you can do.
Then do it if you're able,
God is watching me and you.
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