I tried to look away,
And pretend I didn't see,
The thought went through my head,
"But by the grace of God that's me."

The dress upon her body,
Was no more then a rag.
In her arms she clutched,
A dilapidated bag.

I saw beat up shoes,
As I looked upon her feet,
Yet the smile she gave to me,
Was nothing less then sweet.

What I saw within her look,
Filled me with surprise.
I couldn't help but speak,
As I looked into her eyes.

So I spoke and by her side,
I began to walk.
We walked in silence for awhile,
Then she began to talk.

In the bag she carried,
Memories of her son.
She had no other children,
He was the only one.

Her son was coming home one night,
It was very late.
From behind a gun went off,
Her son had met his fate.

Her heart and soul filled up,
With devastating grief.
There seemed to be no way on earth,
She could find relief.

Then one day she discovered,
Mogan David Wine.
If she drank enough wine,
She imagined things were fine.

No one tried to help her,
And no one seemed to care.
The world began to treat her,
As though she wasn't there.

She became a member of,
The homeless and the meek.
The kind society ignores,
And considers weak.

I knew the lady on the street,
Thought of me as friend.
I saw tears in her eyes,
When the talking had to end.

I noticed how forlorn she looked,
When we said goodbye.
It took me quite awhile,
To know the many reasons why.

I never even offered,
To meet again someday.
Though I knew she still had many,
Things she'd like to say.