Do You Know My Name?

By Jordan VanGesen

Do you know my name?

You walk by me every day on your way to work,

I call out to you hoping to grab your attention, but you never come.

Too busy with that cell phone call.

Do you know my name?

I am standing in line hoping to get the first meal of the day,

Twelve o’clock noon,

You told me you ran out,

Too bad I can’t afford a different dish.

Do you know my name?

I asked you for a job,

An “agency” led me to your offices,

You said since I don’t have a real mailing address you couldn’t hire me.

How am I supposed to be what you want me to be if you won’t let me

contribute.

Do you know my name?

 My house is under the stars at night,

You both walk a streets length away from my campsite to avoid me.

All I really want is a roof not a canopy,

And for someone to see me as a human.

Do you know my name?

Because you look down on me,

Saying I am worthless in your eyes because I am lazy.

Saying I don’t contribute because I can make more money being poor,

Not knowing you are just a paycheck away from being like me

Do you know my name?

I come to you with all my money

Because like a bad relationship, I keep coming back

You make money off my pain.

Just smile and wave

Do you know my name?

Because you seem to make a lot of laws around me,

Not knowing who I am or what I have gone through,

But punishment seems to be the way to get rid of the thought of me.

DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?

Because I know all of Yours…

You’re the businessman

You could not give me a dollar for food,

because you left your wallet at home,

Not like I could see your pockets,

Or you could see me suffering

You’re the soup kitchen worker

You do your best to help us all

But sometimes funds run short,

You can’t save us all, though you wish you could

 You’re the manager,

Who wouldn’t want to hire me if their life depended on it

Because who would want to hire,

Someone they think would steal to make ends meet.

But all I really want is enough money to eat.

You were the couple that met my eyes,

You could not bear my sadness so you ran away,

Crossed what didn’t need to be crossed,

Just so you could think to yourself “God is he okay”

You’re the blue collar worker,

Scared to be me,

Scared of what could happen if you were me,

Scared to help me incase you would become, ME

You’re my dealer,

I found you at my lowest point because of your shoes,

Clean,

Unlike the profit you make off me

and others who would much rather be clean,

Then have to look for you for some kind of release

 You’re the politicians,

Who would much rather make my condition Illegal,

Then actually come up with a solution to my pain,

Because hurting is easier than healing to you.

Because you do it all the time to those you don’t agree with.

And You…

You see me on street corners,

At train stations,

Busses,

Side streets,

Alleys,

Park benches,

And so many more places then that..

All I really have to ask you about my situation is

CAN YOU DO MORE?