He Walks Your Streets

He Walks Your Streets
by Marilyn Mackenzie

He walks your streets,
Actually, he sleeps in them too.
Yes, he’s a homeless drunk,
But he’s so much more than that.

He walks your streets.
Do you see beyond his rumpled clothes?
Do you let his smelly body get near?
Or do you hurry on by without a thought?

He walks your streets.
Of course his outcome is his own fault.
But even Dr. Phil admits that we
Write upon each other’s life slates.

He walks your streets.
Do you ever wonder why? Ever care?
Do you think he’s just worthless?
I wonder what God thinks.

He walks your streets.
But while you drive your fancy cars,
And give only pennies to the poor.
He gives the shirt off his back.

He walks your streets.
Sharing sunshine wherever he
Stumbles along or trips and falls.
He loves all people and animals. Do you?

He walks your streets.
I wonder if it’s because of what that
Sunday school teacher said long ago?
Or because he never learned to read?

He walks your streets.
Do you see him? His smile is huge,
Although behind it are rotting teeth,
A body rotting from the inside out.

He walks your streets.
I look at him and see my baby brother,
When I was six and he was two,
And I tried so hard to protect him.

Did I fail him? Or did you?
Were you that Sunday school teacher
Who told him never to return
Because he threw a paper airplane?

Were you his school teacher?
Who never cared that he couldn’t read?
And just kept bumping him to the next class,
Waiting for someone else to take time and care?

Were you the older neighbor kid
Who taught him how to feel better
By drinking cough syrup or taking pills?
And then gave him his first beer?

Yes, I was his older sister.
I should have seen what he was becoming.
But I was young and naïve as well.
Our dad drank. Why shouldn’t brother?

Were you his high school teacher who said
If he’d show up you’d let him graduate?
When he didn’t show up, did you ask why?
Do you know why he dropped out March of senior year?

Were you the guy who taught him to race
figure-eight cars? And watched as he tumbled
And hurt his hip, so that he’d always limp?
Were you laughing with him or at him?

Were you his boss who insisted he get his GED,
But neglected to help? He almost passed.
But you had to let him go, and all the dreams he had
Of having a good life started to dwindle and die.

Were you that girl who broke his heart? Why?
Because he didn’t pass that test? Did you help him?
That job might have meant a lifetime career.
He wasn’t addicted yet; he could have been saved.

Were you that woman who married him?
He was finally happy again. But your only
Reason was to have a sperm donor.
Did you ever tell him there was more?

Were you the person who spoke angrily
Or disrespectfully to my brother?
Did you know that sometimes it only takes
One word to crumble a person’s self-esteem?

Were you the person who never spoke?
Who noticed him but ignored him?
Sometimes it only takes one affirmation
To make a person know their true worth.

He walks your streets, day after day.
But you don’t see him. You see a drunk.
You see a homeless person. He’s more.
He’s my brother. He’s my baby brother.

Were you the motorcyclists who hit him?
Did you know he had 200 stitches because of you?
He was only trying to save a turtle from being killed.
Why did you kick at him and try to run him over?

Were you the attorney who decided that his case
wasn’t worth your time? He had no value
to the world, so the guys who hit him
Could just walk away. Unpunished. Laughing at the drunk.

I wonder who will be laughing when brother arrives in heaven.
Sure, he has abused his own body, by drinking too much.
But he has given of himself to the world, even when
He had no material goods to give. He gave himself.

He offers smiles, when that is all he has to give.
He runs errands for merchants, only asking
For a sandwich for his good deeds.
And a beer for his addiction.

An addiction that never had to be,
If we had just seen or cared
When he stumbled and fell many years ago,
And didn't know how to get up again.

It’s probably too late for my brother.
His body and mind need a huge
God miracle to be made whole again.
It could be done, no doubt.

But the lesson must be,
That there are others just like him,
Waiting to be loved or neglected.
Waiting to be cared for or ignored.

He walks your streets.
How many more
Will walk your streets
Before you start to care?

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