Homeless

With my clothes-filled trash bag,

Flung over my shoulders sag.

With the wind that nips

At my already bit cheeks.

My future's bleak

No hope

All stress,

"No ma'am I don't want a Bible."

I know Jesus

and have forgotten the rest.

I know He's love.

I know He's mercy.

So why has He left me?

Why has me cursed me?