New York City 1978



There were tall buildings and people-packed streets and avenues all around. By 7:00 am, droves of people had already spilled out of the Port Authority bus terminal and were rushing to their offices. Women in full dress and make-up, wearing track shoes for a quicker commute by foot, huffed by me... But what I was most struck by were the homeless people, dressed in multiple layers of discarded clothing, living in cardboard houses on the sidewalks. Some with eyes sewn shut; others unbathed, hungry and suffering from dementia, or at least massive confusion. I always spared them some change even though my native NY co-workers called me a sap...



Two years later, after moving back to Massachusetts, I woke in the middle of the night and scratched this out like it had been programmed into me by a higher power.

HOMELESS



No one knows your glory

No one knows your shame

No one's heard your story

And no one knows your name



No one's gonna ask you

No one will reply

No one's gonna hear your truth

And no one hears your lie



No one knows your troubles

No one feels your pains

No one feels your heartbeat

As the blood pumps through your veins-



Until the world feels compassion

For a life that's gone astray

Until giving is in fashion

There is no other way...



No one warms your blankets

No one draws your sheets

No one offers comfort

As you wander through the streets



It's not the life you've chosen

Or what you had in mind

To live amongst the homeless

And beg beside the blind



No one knows your glory

No one knows your shame

No one's heard your story

And no one knows your name-



Until the world feels compassion

For a life that's gone astray

Until giving is in fashion

There is no other way...

















