Ode to Mitch Snyder

I am forever grateful that Mitch Snyder gave his life for the poorest of the poor. He created a shelter that provides refuge and meals for two thousand people who otherwise would suffer on the cold streets of Washington, D.C. Near the shelter, they named a street after Mitch Snyder.

by Judy Joy Jones

 

“Only the chosen ones have eyes that really see and ears that hear.”

 

It’s alright baby Mama has you now

cuddled close to her breast where

you can finally, finally rest

 

hadn’t a moment’s peace on earth

did ya hon

Oh Mitch Snyder

chosen driven haunted one

 

You shed your blood so others could live

taking in by the thousands to your

shelters’ warm arms

the poor unwanted neglected on earth

they flocked to your door knowing

a night’s peace could be had

with no questions asked

 

In the coldest darkest nights

thru blizzards rain sleet and snow

as we slept warmly in our

secure little beds

with dollar signs dancin thru

our empty little heads

you darlin were collectin the

remains of the no names

at the city morgue’s door and

holdin em tight to your breast

for you were the orphans’

god on earth Mitch

the daddy mother brother all in one

for the millions without anyone

on this earth you walked

alone and abused

but your mission my friend

bears fruit

The homeless of this land have

one less tear one more meal

and a night’s freedom

from the violent who

eat the weak on the streets

 

unconditional love you gave

24 hours a day

you took in what society throws away

the strays

yea child you walked in dem shoes of

prisoner tramp and thief

so you knew didn’t ya hon how it felt

on dem cold filthy concrete streets

 

humbled yourself before mankind

and now your chosen soul child

has gone home to god for its final rest

A Reaganville protest organized by Mitch Snyder, the leader of the Community for Creative Nonviolence in Washington, D.C.

A Reaganville protest organized by Mitch Snyder, the leader of the Community for Creative Nonviolence in Washington, D.C.

 

Oh yeah sweetie pie

your time for wailing done done

and for the price you paid Mitch Snyder

the whole world’s gonna honor and

pay homage to you thru eternity

 

don’t need to shed your tears

no more child

it’s time for the trumpets

and peace bells to ring out your

name to everyone on earth and

all the saints gather round

and place upon your precious head

the crown of the brave valiant

and those that persevered

in thy hands feet and brow

the stigmata do i see there

we crucified thee mitch

with ignorance pride and

tightly closed eyes

 

and in your side with

your own hand

you placed the final wound

cause child you had given

all you came to earth to give

and winged your way back home

to god as angels do

as soon as their chosen works are thru

 

a saint’s halo shall grace thee

of this i am certain

 

and now mr. snyder may i

this unknown poet wash

your holy feet with my teardrops

dotted here and there

and dry them with my hair

 

you died for love mitch snyder

and i / we love you

 

Note: I wrote this ode to Mitch Snyder, founder of the Community for Creative Nonviolence, because he created a homeless shelter that provides refuge and meals for two thousand people who otherwise would suffer on the cold streets of Washington, D.C. They have named a street near the shelter after Mitch Snyder. Six months after I met and interviewed him, he died by hanging himself. I am forever grateful that Mitch gave his life for the poorest of the poor. — Judy Jones

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