There are many of us. Alone. Lonely. We are here,
Can you see us? Can you hear us? We are near.
We are misunderstood searching for a time and place?
We are outsiders. The ones no one wants. A frown on our face.
We want love. We want to be a neighbor, a friend.
We are not bad choices, though, peace we wish to begin,
We want to be accepted. We want our lives to grow.
Searching, searching always searching, for a way to go.
Why? Why? Inadequate goes through our minds?
Searching for acceptance in a world unkind.
Truckers, hitchhikers, Carnies, Bums, homeless,
But Y’all look at us and could care less.
On the streets we have probably called to satan a time or two,
But when we got scared, we called to God He is the one that came through.
But where were you? The people. We were misinformed,
Not a whole lot of people called us to be reformed.
The churches were so big and fancy we got so scared,
Who would want to see us being so weird. Who would care?
I will end this now with my heart broken but an open mind,
Will you invite me in or will you continue to stay blind?
© Cynthia Clark & Michael Fender