WWJD on the streets of Dub

Have you seen the wee girl
In the street by our college?
Kicking at the rubbish,
With her high, high heels.
In her eyes, there is no spark
Bringing each man to her side
Yesterday’s lost innocence
Bringing pain in today

So how can you tell me you’re missional
And it’s all going well in your own church.
Walk with me and talk with me
I’ll lead you through the streets of Dublin
I’ll show you something to make you change your mind.

Have you seen the pigeon kicker
And his burly thuggy mates
They live in hopelessness
And dark, dark times
They have no time for me
Or even know the Father
Yesterday’s lost innocence
Bringing pain in today

In the doorways, hey
You’ll find Paul, Bert, Sean and Mark
Nick and Jim and even Siobhan
You’ll see duvets and damp pillows
Black plastic bin liners
Worn down faces
Past caring today

Would you give your new shirt?
Bring them home for dinner?
Walk the two miles
And turn the other cheek?
I’ve no time for Pharisees
I’ve no time for lip speaking
I want to see in you
Head, heart and hands

So change your sail to missional
Show tough hands that you can use
To change the world one bloke at a time
Show them Father through me
Tender-hearted
Lovingkindness

home
I wrote this poem with a song tune in my head, I wrote it in March 2016 after spending a year of 1-day-a-week in Dublin. I met all kinds of people, the old, young and in between.

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