In dark alleys and crowded streets,
They roam without hope or heat,
Forgotten faces, empty plates,
Cold wind whips through ragged clothes.
Some call them vagrants, others trash,
Discarded by society’s class,
But they are human, worthy of care,
Not invisible, nor beyond repair.
Let us reach out, lend a helping hand,
Offer warmth, shelter from the storm,
Break bread together, share stories told,
And remember those long forgotten souls.
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