His People

the old man sat out here on the porch,
shaking, smoking a cigarette... waiting
on his ride.
i sat down to talk to him, mostly to listen...
'you know, my daughter and her husband
lost their jobs, and their house. so we
moved them and their kids in with us...
they're strung out on them pills, we cant
get them off... hell, she's took everything
in the house she could sell....'
and i just listened.... him, and his wife,
both on disability... barely able to get
from point a to point b...
every day i hear these stories... all different,
but all the same in the end.... no jobs,
nowhere to stay, no health insurance...
and dependence... usually pills...
these are the forgotten people, the people
without a voice... if Jesus were alive today,
these would be His people!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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