Sit

You sit on the edge of the road in the bus stop shelter

Talking to yourself with your blanket pulled up around

Your shoulders keeping warm, passing by you

Appear to be talking to those beside you but the man is not 

Looking at you, as a matter of fact he looks uncomfortable

With your beat and rhythm, your hands gesturing

Bringing in the listener on a journey, what is the story

That threw you out here, alone with all your possessions in a case

Where is your family, do they worry where you are 

Wondering where you wandered to and we pass by

Leaving you on the fringe cold deserted because you

Should be able to take care of yourself when it is so apparent

We should wrap you up and care for the gift of your childlike 

Faith to be lost out here and not appear to be afraid

Talking with the people you must see everyday 

Care is our call, would we want to be out there