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From the point that you were born You were loved and adored As your mother held her hands out And you tottered across the floor A giant step for tiny man To learn to walk and speak And Daddy planned your future Putting cash away each week. Now you look down at your fingers Nails all darkened with the dirt Avoiding eyes of those who pass Some spitting words that hurt You were not to blame for this you know The road your life has taken Each day a struggle to survive As in a doorway you awaken Stuff happens in a family People die, a marriage falters There's times when there is no safe place For a family's sons and daughters. You try each day to carry on Avoiding those who'll sway you With obliviating substances That eventually will slay you Still they look away from you And think you're the afflicted You're not. Not you. You've kept it clean. You're not as yet, addicted. But every day is harder now The hope of rescue waning A young man is not vulnerable And needs no help when it's raining But once you were someone's son Someone's pride and joy Inside you still are, afraid and lost A homeless little boy. Joanne Oliver
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