Stale Cookie

Under a blanket on a slab off to the side of the road
Jesus lays His Head among the poorest of the poor
Cars pass by, headlights nearly miss Him
He has nowhere to lay His Head,
But He cannot leave the poor in the street
Ministering to Them in Spirit and Truth
They begin to sing psalms
around a trash can on fire to warm their hands
People pass by and shake their heads
“Lazy”, they hear
“Drug addict.”
“Whore.”
“Degenerate.”
“Sub-humans.”
“Losers.”

Under the holes of a blanket a lady peeps a single eye
a tear has slipped through the filthy rag,
“I lost my job six months ago”
She explained to another
as they shared a brown paper bag,
Another man munched on a stale cookie,
“I got this from the shelter.”
But they were full, and I couldn’t sleep there tonight.