the old man sat out here on the porch, <br />shaking, smoking a cigarette... waiting <br />on his ride. <br />i sat down to talk to him, mostly to listen... <br />'you know, my daughter and her husband <br />lost their jobs, and their house. so we <br />moved them and their kids in with us... <br />they're strung out on them pills, we cant <br />get them off... hell, she's took everything <br />in the house she could sell....' <br />and i just listened.... him, and his wife, <br />both on disability... barely able to get <br />from point a to point b... <br />every day i hear these stories... all different, <br />but all the same in the end.... no jobs, <br />nowhere to stay, no health insurance... <br />and dependence... usually pills... <br />these are the forgotten people, the people <br />without a voice... if Jesus were alive today, <br />these would be His people!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/his-people-2/
