Homeless
With my clothes-filled trash bag,
Flung over my shoulders sag.
With the wind that nips
At my already bit cheeks.
My future's bleak
No hope
All stress,
"No ma'am I don't want a Bible."
I know Jesus
and have forgotten the rest.
I know He's love.
I know He's mercy.
So why has He left me?
Why has me cursed me?
15
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