She stands on the corner of the block
Nobody taking heed to her pleading cries
"Won’t somebody please feed my baby?" she laments
As she chases off the bloodthirsty, swarming flies.
People pass on by, not even giving her a glance
Instead they look upon her with contemptful disdain
Not remembering the simple tale of the Good Samaritan
But leaving her and the child in their suffering and pain.

He walks into the liquor store to get his forty
His friend goes to the server for another blunt
Not realizing the painful, shocking truth of it
That all they’re experiencing is a false, spiritual front.
It doesn’t really occur to them that they are injuring themselves
What they are committing doesn’t take them from the fray
Only through raw prayer can they actually see the truth
That the unconditional love of Jesus can take them all the way.

Who can truly reach inside of them when the pain is so deep?
What will bring them out of their spiritual black hole?
How can one find their true personal, loving selves?
When they’ve all sold out to Satan for their souls?
"Where can they go once they have hit true bottom, and
Why did they sell out their souls to begin with?" you ask
Only the unconditional love of Jesus Christ can solve the mystery
Of locating their injured, lost souls and saving their spirits
Making an impossible chore into a miraculous task.