These are the nameless, rejected, homeless people,
These are the ones that are unknown, daily passing by,
These are the ones that sit and cry for an acknowledgement of love,
These are the ones the Father knows and loves.
Daily they sit in hopelessness, daily, they are hungry, and ravaged,
Some without a blanket to keep them warm at night, some that are bound,
in fear, and cower in your sight, These are the ones that daily fight,
for shelter, but the Father shelters them under the shadow of His wings.
Feed My Sheep, be My hands and feet, be My voice that comforts, and love
them in My sight, be that one, that helps the poor, the needy, the unlovely,
in the day, or night, for as much as you have done, unto the least of these, My
children, you have done it unto Me.
Lisa Beth Jenkins Copyright 2008 All Rights Reserved