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