He sits in sillent as he reads all day 

You stare and complain of his broken ways 

Just a fews seconds of your day you will come to know

that the man you speed by was once a son, a friend, a student, and a soilder fighitng to survive,  

but how can you see the unseen beauty of the streets when you aviod and judge but never speak

to the man with the most purest smile upon his cheek and a gleam in his eye when he does speak. 

The unseen beauty of the streets is more than just the dirt that you see, behind an ally way is a memory and pass the broken glass is a home with a story. 

We sit and judge but never know, until we sit and speak with those who long for another chance. To understand why we must move pass the borders we set to see the rest. In order to fully know we must see the unseen beauty of the Streets.