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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Looking through poetry both old and new in the bookstore down the street A certain paperback caught my eye and I carried it to my seat I opened the pages to copyright and it was from fifty-three For some reason that stood out with no idea why that would be My attention was soon drawn away as someone opened the door I looked up and saw a man and I knew I had seen him before He hid behind a long gray beard clothes tattered as he shook But something glistened in his eyes as he walked over and got a book He took a seat beside me I nodded my head and smiled He spoke to me in a gentle voice, "How are you today, my child?" "I am well, thank you" was my quick reply He noticed my chosen paperback, as a tear streamed from his eye "I see the book you've chosen, I know the author well He's been waiting for so long for just one to sell You know within those pages lies his history Life, death, hope, love it's for all to see." He then stood and walked away to the adjoining coffee shop Once I started reading my book I found I couldn't stop Hanging on his every word it all came back to me The stranger, the author that he knew the year of fifty-three He was the lonely drifter I had seen not long ago Right there in that coffee shop and how I watched him so He watched as people chose the books upon the shelves Skimming past the paperback choosing another for themselves The author that this stranger knew I found to be himself Many years he had been waiting for his life to leave the shelf I gladly bought my paperback without thinking twice For the heart of this stranger had already paid the price
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