by Renee Small

 

homeless-coldCold, trembling hands
And feet;
No coat, no blanket,
Sense of defeat.
Is anyone there?
Can anyone see?
The homeless, the poor…
This is me.
Oh, I ask,
Compassion , Compassion
Where art thee?

Achy, fragile body
And limbs;
No money, no doctor,
Life dims.
Is anyone there?
Can anyone see?
The aged, the widow…
This is me.
Oh, I ask,
Compassion, Compassion
Where art thee?

Afflicted, confused
And distressed;
No friend, no counsel,
Mind a mess.
Is anyone there?
Can anyone see?
The passerby, the stranger…
This is me.
Oh, I ask,
Compassion, Compassion
Where art thee?

Tormented, troubled
And alone;
No love, no guidance,
Left to roam.
Is anyone there?
Can anyone see?
The fatherless, the orphan…
This is me.
Oh, I ask,
Compassion, Compassion
Where art thee?

 

About the author:

Renee Small is married and has three handsome sons that keep her active and on the go.  Over the last few years, the Lord has moved her from a lucrative career as a Financial Accountant to the awesome role of a stay-at-home mom.  She is also currently serving as the Women’s Ministry Director at her local church, along with answering the call to write for the Lord!

poetry [compassion]: compassion, where art thee?

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