She drops to her knees
And nobody sees
Unless there’s a God
In the heavenlies
She whispers a prayer
Kind sir, are you there?
Please help me, please, please! 

Words hang in the air
Hope turns to despair
A deepening yawn
The blank cosmic stare
She won’t be alive
Tomorrow at five
Pain too much to bear 

Unemployed squatter
Sheep to the slaughter
Pregnant, homeless, a
Prodigal daughter
Bleating in the night
Anxious, full of fright
Won’t someone spot her? 

A man passing by
He heard her soft cry
Stooped to her level
He raised her head high
Follow Me, he said
You’re no longer dead
Apple of My eye
_________­___
Andrew Dabar