12/29/2019
o'er the rain upon the sill
the wind whistles and whirls
silver slant above the hill
call my name--a sussurous swirl
in the moonlight one does see
the face of a forgotten soul
upon whose brow, rain runs free
alone with nowhere left to go
beside my nightstand, curtain peeled back
i see the man shivering, there
his goodness shining among the black
tears soaking his silver hair
i open the door, invite him in
his eyes dark; gaze is low
a man who have given into sin
traveled where the wind did blow
the wind has led him all around
just looking for a place to stay
desperation in his voice sounds
offers but has nothing to repay
a man who simply needed a hand
for himself a decent life to make
craves on his two feet to stand
looking for a chance to take