PASSING AWAY

Everyday I see this middle aged man
standing on the corner with a sign in his hand
I'm a vet it reads and I could use a buck
I'm just a little on the downside of my luck

and it's hard to make your way, living day to day
with no home, no job, no friends, no family
and it's hard to make ends meet and get a hot meal to eat
when you're living on the street in paradise

A dozen cars all lined up, waiting for the light to change
and everybody's just trying to pretend
that they don't even see him, standing there in the cold
barely got time for the money machine and the donut store

and it's hard to make your way, through another working day
with the demands of the house and the job and the family
and it's hard to make ends meet with all the Jones's left to beat
living on suburbia street in paradise

Should I feel guilty when I pass him by
or if I give him cash and I funding his next high
Is there something else that I could say or do?
What would my reaction be if this man were you?

Everybody's got blinders on if it's not within their life
Got to expand that circle of love beyond the kids and wife
Take a chance on a stranger if you're not afraid to live
The universe might find Karma it's willing to forgive

Cause it's hard sometimes to be human
the world keeps getting in the way
and it's harder still if you can't find the meaning
in the passing day
You're just passing away

Written by Michael Frazier © December 2, 2004