Witty
06-30-2015, 08:18 PM
I'm lethargic and beat
the apple never falls too far from the tree
so I collect the fallen fruit in the Garden of Eden
in a cart 'n then feed 'em to the starvin' and grievin'
the discarded, the freaks, the disheartened
the garbage that are guardin' the streets
and I don't require credit cards or receipts
just for you to turn your face from darkness to peace
embrace your heart as hard as it beats.
I find joy with the vagrant
who's never been employed cuz the fragrance
of alcohol and the slurring of his voice
represents a choice and a statement
but as I set his apple down
sit next to him and his boys on the pavement
I see a different side to him...boisterous, patient.
He glows with wisdom and peace, yet exists on the streets,
people say 'he's not the whole puzzle man he's missing a piece'
but his eye glistens with a glint as he speaks,
joy radiates from his chest to his bearded face
fearless as he's nearing fate, queer and quaint
even tho what years remain are spent on the streets
you can almost hear his veins pumping salvation's searing flames.
Unless I'm hearing things, his voice is truly happy
he's not stuck in a void, huffing, annoyed
even tho his choice of food is crappy
his clothes are torn, bones are worn
I've never seen him fold from the wait on his shoulders
get impatient and cold, or mourn, he soldiers on
toward another frozen dawn
where it's just him and the lonely song of the early bird
yet he remains just like a stone, he's strong.
He told me 'Son, I feel lonely in a crowd, it feels like I'm the only one
it was only when I stepped out of the line that the healing of my soul begun'
He crunches his apple as I stare at him in disbelief, this 'twisted freak'
has somehow found the bliss we seek, he exists in peace.
I'm often depressed, lost in the stress of the world
tossed with the rest on the production line, just a pawn, this is chess
yet he escaped the game, he no longer feels the aching pain
he holds his destiny, resolved, and he's blessed.
So as he finishes his apple, and begins napping in the breeze
I stand up and walk away...
....from the homeless man who's happier than me.
the apple never falls too far from the tree
so I collect the fallen fruit in the Garden of Eden
in a cart 'n then feed 'em to the starvin' and grievin'
the discarded, the freaks, the disheartened
the garbage that are guardin' the streets
and I don't require credit cards or receipts
just for you to turn your face from darkness to peace
embrace your heart as hard as it beats.
I find joy with the vagrant
who's never been employed cuz the fragrance
of alcohol and the slurring of his voice
represents a choice and a statement
but as I set his apple down
sit next to him and his boys on the pavement
I see a different side to him...boisterous, patient.
He glows with wisdom and peace, yet exists on the streets,
people say 'he's not the whole puzzle man he's missing a piece'
but his eye glistens with a glint as he speaks,
joy radiates from his chest to his bearded face
fearless as he's nearing fate, queer and quaint
even tho what years remain are spent on the streets
you can almost hear his veins pumping salvation's searing flames.
Unless I'm hearing things, his voice is truly happy
he's not stuck in a void, huffing, annoyed
even tho his choice of food is crappy
his clothes are torn, bones are worn
I've never seen him fold from the wait on his shoulders
get impatient and cold, or mourn, he soldiers on
toward another frozen dawn
where it's just him and the lonely song of the early bird
yet he remains just like a stone, he's strong.
He told me 'Son, I feel lonely in a crowd, it feels like I'm the only one
it was only when I stepped out of the line that the healing of my soul begun'
He crunches his apple as I stare at him in disbelief, this 'twisted freak'
has somehow found the bliss we seek, he exists in peace.
I'm often depressed, lost in the stress of the world
tossed with the rest on the production line, just a pawn, this is chess
yet he escaped the game, he no longer feels the aching pain
he holds his destiny, resolved, and he's blessed.
So as he finishes his apple, and begins napping in the breeze
I stand up and walk away...
....from the homeless man who's happier than me.