He locked the large wooden office door,
Walked alone to a home left hours before.
Then when he reached his humble abode,
The familiar surroundings of which forebode.
Inserted his key, changed the locked mode,
And walked across the creaking floor.
A candle he burned in the darkened room,
Dimly lit now, and still full of gloom.
On the stove put a meal atop to heat.
And every morsel alone he did eat.
Then to the chamber he would retreat,
To retire for the night of doom.
After donning his nightly attire for bed,
Upon satin pillows he laid down his head.
Tossing and turning, asleep at last,
A ghoulish dream he has of his past.
Thoughts that before had seemed so crass
Streams through his mind from the dead.
Haunted visions he had, one by one.
A cast of mistreated and over run
Connecting a past of many heartless deeds
To a present and future of uncaring greed.
Throughout the night the dream would proceed.
Until the lunar crest gave way to the sun.
As the sun through his window began to shine
With his haunting dream still fresh in his mind.
He arose and stepped to his window to view
Something different, he thought. Could this be true?
The streets were the same and the people too.
As if nothing had changed but time.
His view of the world was different that day.
It was he that had changed from his wicked way.
The preceding night put his head in a spin.
The world he now saw was as it had been.
But he had been changed from within;
With a new attitude, and kind things to say.
The world, not knowing of his demise.
Were skeptical at first, then realized
That something, or someone affected him.
More generous and friendly he was to them,
Not as the old man who was so grim.
He now saw the world through new eyes.
Copyright © Ron Lanier