Perspective

I found myself in darkened days The forecast then was looking bleak No matter how I tried it seemed that I was on a losing streak Well, losing may not be the word but life had simply gotten dull No light could ever penetrate the gray clouds whirling in my skull On one especially gloomy night it was my turn to volunteer serving meals inside a shelter twice a month throughout the year Then afterwards, while cleaning up and nearly ready to go home behind me spoke a tiny voice the inspiration for this poem This young black child standing there of six years old, maybe seven said to me "Thank you for coming" which was spoken straight from heaven He gave me such a loving smile and then returned from whence he came Choked up, I said "You're very welcome" never asking for his name While thinking of this little boy as I drove home I shed some tears as much for him as for myself and all my empty wasted years This precious one without a home with no possessions to his name had managed such a cheerfulness which brought to me a sense of shame This child opened up my eyes and gave to me a needed dose of cold perspective in the face so now I hold my blessings close All of which were right around me all along, but I was blind The things I thought that I had lost that little boy had helped me find Was that child heaven sent? Perhaps an angel in disguise? Whichever way I think of him it brings a teardrop to my eyes I pray for him from time to time and never shall forget him, no And when I'm very old and gray my mind will find him smiling so If I could speak to him once more there's just one thing I'd like to say "Thank YOU for coming, little friend, you saved my life one darkened day" Mike Wise 11-9-19