Its ME

I was begging at your feet-
cap in hand, sweater torn, head bowed
on the cold slabs of Mexico Street.
I cried inside as you walked past.
Where could you be heading?
Stop! Oh please…..not so fast!

Again I saw you that November day,
The snow fell and the wind blew cold
whilst under the bridge I lay,
The couch upon which I slept was damp,
But worse than that - my heart ached with loneliness
To the world and to you I am only a ‘tramp’.

The next time I saw you perhaps you never recognized me.
My face was bruised and swollen,
You stared straight ahead and you didn’t see.
I was cold, hungry and had no where to lie,
Crimson tears rolled into the gutter-
You glanced, looked away and then strode on by.

My dear, dear child – It is me!
Your Father, your saviour, your friend,
It is I who has set you free!
I cry to be shown love, clothed and fed.
Yet where is your compassion and love?
For have been raised with me and are no longer dead!


One day you will meet me face to face,
No longer in disguise,
You will celebrate the greatest love and be in awe of this scandalous grace.
So dear child remember me as I sit in the rain,
Don’t hurry on by without caring and offering help,
For remember love was my mission and love is my name!