One, children for the street

Incomdesent halos turn above the head of the children we saw last night so pure and poor hands out streched serching for god with there fingertips screening for the extra changh in ower pockets hoping for enuf to make a lofe of bred apper in there hands eating the flesh of servivle stealing some times just to fit buy holding up stranger for a Copley bucks and a dream of a better life these child of the streets cardbord conasuers eating from broken heps of yesterdays luch for the poeople how pass them ther hands in there pocket serching for a small something or nothing just to git rid of this child of the street with there fingers serching for the god they so gratly need passing out on park bunches and underpasses bathed in this worlds hate wharing golden rags as Jesus did hopeing someone will put some chang in there hands witch are still serching for god Prying for a batter life outsid there cardbord bosses and daily morning begging sechens on street corners not safe enuf to walk alone down these children of the streets cry out to the god they are serching for hoping he can bring forth enuf changh to put food on the tabel another day cersing the giy who passed ther way and empted a full cup of starbuks Corrie and a un eten hamberger in to the suwers inches form there face these children who hand over flow with the hope that some one wil have enuf love to spar a cuple buks in to there hand that are still serching for the god that has seemed to left there side a man dead today in the cryer of cetrel and main be was pour and was killed boy a man too bisy to kar he found his awser in the rear tiers of a 87 convertable where is yours.
by jhone doe