Weary Hand and Heavy Heart
By Tamyara Brown
Did you hear my prayer as I stood in the rain and slept in the puddles?
Lord, last night the shelters was full, the meals where gone and right when I thought I could see clearly there I was again a cause seeming to be without hope.
Did you know I look for a job today but because my address is unknown I was escorted out the door?
My hands pulling through garbage cans just for some cans to help me pay for you.
My heart trying to hold on reciting the Lord's prayer.
To the world with their eyes I am disgrace on the street.
With their heads all I want is hand out.
Trying hard not to let these weary hands infect my worrying heart. Trying to withstand the storm s I face. You think you know my story. All these years prior served my country. All these years work for employer within a year job moved to another country we are at war with. Another American human being dedicated to the red, white and blue living in the street.
Another hero treated like a zero. All along now I get it I should have served my allegiance with the God I know who will never forsake me or leave me.
All I am stuck with is blind Faith and the belief that my heart will be restored and my hands will no longer be weary.
©2014 Tamyara Brown
Author Tamyara Brown
My love for writing is unconditional. It is my sanity in this crazy world.