BY JOYCE
4/1/1998
A light shines in my face,
As a voice instructs me to warm place,
Now it's coming back to mind,
Of the warmth I do hunger.
The police officer say's,
That I've been here in this doorway,
For many wind chilled hours,
He speaks of warmth and showers.
Yes, I do need the help,
Especially here at this hour,
A warm cup of soup,
And a warm place to put my head.
To awaken in the morning,
To a cup of coffee,
Cold cereal,
This is treasures a bound,
Too alive because some one cares.
Teach me to live again,
Flower me with knowledge,
Show me how to succeed,
Help me find myself.
And let GOD do what GOD has too,
And judge me not.
For I'm a fallen child,
A finger nail from his hand..
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