IN FRONT WITH THE PACK

They were in front were the pack

Not a care , no worry's , no fears among them

The sun shone bright , a cool breeze gently blew

Behind it were dark , dark as a winters night

A storm blew , snow and ice fell , snow deepening

On the wind a voice carried by the wind reached out

In pain , sounded as if the owner of the voice were

In torment

Crying out , '' help , help me '' , '' wont some one help me ''

The person , could not say whether the voice was young or old

Age uncertain , man or woman , could not be ascertained

A member of the pack stops , turns around , and walks back

In to the storm behind , to seek out the voice that was herd

To find a human being in distress , wrap the pore soul suffering so

In the warmth of a coat worn by the pack member

Gathered the suffering the sole in to the arms to worm with the body heat

Of both of them till the morrow came

When the pore soles freinds came , and took there friend away

No thanks given , no '' whats your name? ''

The one who came back soon forgot

That's the manner of life

Ken D Williams

The Dyslexic Wordsmith



Poetry by ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2012-12-02 at 13:09

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countryfog
There is a story and photo circulating widely here now about a New York City policeman who comes across a homeless man sleeping on a freezing sidewalk, the man has no shoes and the cop goes into a shoe store, buys a$100 pair of shoes and socks, brings them back to the man and puts them on his feet. That the story has "gone viral" as they say says much about how rare such care and generosity are these days.
2012-12-02