The People Who Live Under the Bridges
By Brazos
The People Who Live Under the Bridges There are people who live under bridges, Their faces lined with creases and ridges; Lost souls with eyes that have no sockets, With only lint and dust in their pockets. In broken wheelchairs they make their ride; Satan's chariots, if you would so abide; With scabby arms and their limbs askew, They stand on corners and beg of you. They do see you, but you see not they, Keep money and heart for another day; For to admit they're there causes much pain, For it could be you, laying in the rain. For in our life, if we change one line; It might be us, a-holdin' the sign; That sign that says, "Hungry, please help me", It could be you or I, try now to see. What would you think, if you lived that way? Wish for death to come take you away? Your choices gone, you're not prestigious; You are one of those who live 'neath bridges! Written March 19th, 2001 © on Jun 09 2001 12:18 PM PST, Brazos Mason 0 • 1
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"The People Who Live Under the Bridges..."