The Shufflers

He shuffles across the parking lot and bathes in the creek
Though he's clean his clothes look like he hasn't bathed in weeks

People stare, people laugh, people act like he can't see them at all
They don't know his story, or feel his pain, they only have their gall

He shuffles along the highways and sleeps on a bench in the park
Wanting just one person's flame of love to create in him a spark

He's been cold so long, he's forgotten how it is to be warm
Being hungry, laughed at and hopeless has long since been the norm

He carries his medals in that old shopping cart as grenades echo in his mind
He served in Vietnam, flames took his family, this life hasn't been too kind

He slips his hand underneath his shirt, holds his cross and for a brief moment clings to hope
That moment turns to peace as tranquility helps him cope

You painfully shuffle along in your heart, while he shuffles only with his feet
He wonders aloud what it would be like to be human, that would be so neat

Their missions don't last just hours or days sometimes they last a life
Complete with kids, a job, a home and a loving, supportive wife

So as angels shuffle among us may about you they give a good report
As you hand him a warm meal, God rejoices your parents didn't abort

John Mark Brooks
Copyright Nov. 1, 2012