A MAN IN PAIN
Beyond the glass, someone walks in the rain,
the umbrella, an awning, in a bleak clime.
His shoulders hunched, he is a man in pain.
I trace my finger down a windowpane
in an attempt to wipe away the grime.
Beyond the glass, someone walks in the rain.
Is he out for a stroll? What does he gain?
His steps are heavy; they pause ev’ry time.
His shoulders hunched, he is a man in pain.
Unbothered by a storm that pours in vain,
that drenches his shoes as the levels climb.
Beyond the glass, someone walks in the rain.
The anguish he carries, no one can feign.
It streams off him with no reason or rhyme.
His shoulders hunched, he is a man in pain.
I can almost feel the weight of his strain.
He is a man lost amid a troubled time.
Beyond the glass, someone walks in the rain.
His shoulders hunched, he is a man in pain.
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