Hurting People

Far away, in a fairytale land,
Underneath an unforgiving sky,
Amidst the wastes of the wilderness lie:

The people of our cities and towns.
Tears fall from their eyes,
As they scream out, “Why?”

Wasted out by life’s tough course,
Their eyes glisten red.
They are like walking dead.

Deep inside is filled with scars,
The longing of a lonely heart,
The feeling of being torn apart,

The desire to belong somehow:
When all they feel is pain,
But they still have no gain.

Crying and hurting people-
They fill our streets.
If we would but lift our eyes to see.

They sit beside us in the pews,
They live behind their masquerade.
Stuck inside an eternal wait.

At night they cry themselves to sleep,
Wishing for someone who really cares,
Someone they don’t have to beware.

Crying, hurting people, don’t pass by!
Please take the time to see how they are-
Put your arm around them, tell them you care.

Show them by your actions,
That you mean what you say,
That you care about them night and day.

Even if you can’t see it,
We are all hurting inside:
Torn apart by the falsities and the lies.

All it takes is someone who cares,
To change the world of someone
Who thinks it’s all said and done.

Crying, hurting people,
Everyone could use a little love-
The kind that comes from above,

When nothing is expected in return
Just something to help them along.
Something to free them from a heartbreak song.

For all us crying, hurting people,
Please stop, and take time,
Keep us always in your mind.

Story behind the poem:

The inspiration for this poem came from one Sunday, as I played guitar. I watched the congregation, I watched them sitting in their seats. I watched as God’s spirit moved, but only a few seemed to move with it. I was watching one person in particular, who I knew was struggling, and waited to see who would go and sit with her, but no one did. I felt something inside me prodding me to go and pray with her. Finally, the urge became too strong: I got out of my seat, and went over and started praying with her. Something came over me and I just started crying. I could feel what she felt, and I knew there wasn’t much I could do, but inside, I hoped that she would know she wasn’t alone.

You see, we can be surrounded by friends, and still feel alone. Our world often is spinning upside down, leaving us in it’s wake. So often we feel like we don’t have any friends, and all it needs is for someone to be like Jesus, to love the way he did: without condition and without looking for reward. We get so caught up with how we feel, that we fail to notice all the others around us who are hurting. Ultimately, just about everyone has a sob story. Everyone caries wounds with them. It’s up to us to help them heal. Not by handing out un-asked-for-advice, etc, but just being there and showing you care.


1Co 13:4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
1Co 13:5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
1Co 13:6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
1Co 13:7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.


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