Lost souls

The lost soul out in the street
with dirty clothes and not much to eat
with no sign of family, no sign of friends
living you don't know how and can only imagine.

The woman with the shopping cart sleeping in the alley
might be someone's mother, was once someone's baby
If we don't ask is it because we don't care,
or are we afraid we too could be there?

Well that woman with the shopping cart sleeping in the alleys
someone's mother, sister, cousin, wife, was once someone's baby.
and she's still one of God's children and her pains and prayers
mean just as much to God as any of ours.

The ragged man in the park, on the bench, on the beach
the wandering people no one trusts and no one can reach
they laugh, they cry, they hurt, they bleed
they need the same things as you or me.

If we don't ask is it because we don't care,
or are we afraid we too could be there?