HE WAS SOMEBODY'S SON
Broken and bent on the park bench he lies
smelling of cheap wine and and hoping to die.
Tattered and torn is the clothing he wears
never complaining and nothing to share.
His last dime was spent on the bottle
as his life was spinning full throttle,
spinning downward and no where to go,
nothing to live for and nothing to show.
Who could this man be and where is he from?
Is there someone that would claim him as son?
How could such disheartening tragedy strike
to snuff out a beautiful persons whole life.
People walk by him as if no one is there.
Children snicker and deliberately stare.
Rain pours on him as he struggles for breath.
Is there someone that can save him from death?
Somebodies baby that was loved and revered,
a clean shaven face that is now covered with beard.
Did a sweet mothers breast hold closely her son?
Did a son respond lovingly but now he is shunned?
Will someone look deeply at this soul?
In his heart is a large gaping hole.
No hope, no love, no gain,
just a mere mortal lying in his pain.
What does it take to change a heart so sore?
What does it take to rise up above the floor?
Who can look at the beast and see the child inside?
Who can take the hand of a man ready to die?
Reach out, reach out to this mere man.
Someone please touch him if you can.
Try to get through some how, some way.
Try to break through the darkness of day.
Take his hand and show him the way.
Tell him God cares and won't turn him away.
Tell him Christ died that he might live again,
and that he can trust Him to be his best friend.
Turn desolation to hope and hope to life,
turn bitterness to sweetness, ridding of strife.
A soul lost but now won,
all in the name of the wonderful Son.
Nancy Carico Dittert Copyright ©2002
