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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The street lamps are left hanging in the rain and the lights around it forces itself out of the darkness blowing the light of hope upon the wet night and the tingling of the bell chime slowly in the pedestrian ears as they try to escape the cold air. The pauper in his thread bare clothes tumbles form underneath the bush and search desperately for a warm place to stretch his feet, but nature was cruel to him instead; he stepped into a pothole in the ground that left him soaking, dripping,wet. He crawls up on the side walk and finds a glitter of hope under the street lamp and he slowly hums a song that resonates from his inner guts. The passersby stares at him and walked on the other side, they cover their nose and ignore the pauper’s cry. He moves closer towards the light looking for a comfortable place to rest but the rain came pouring down forcing him to leave that place The grease on his body tells the tale of the years he was stuck out there, cuts and bruises on his feet and pimples all over his face speak to the cruelty he endured while fending for life out there in the streets. A life of hope translated to a solitude of darkness as he moves further away from the town in his greasy clothes and empty belly. I looked at the expression on his face, but it didn’t say much, his eyes were sinking at the back and the muscle around it drops and I spotted a certain glow coming from below and for one brief moment our eyes met he smiled and walked away and his life was changed forever. When last I heard of him, he was driving a Honda and singing with a musical band in the city. He run a business on the side and married a beautiful wife. He got three children and owns a ranch in the suburb just one look gives him the inspiration to write a dozen books. The tale of the pauper that came out bush and crouched under the street lamp will forever be told until he grows old.
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