Mate
When you feel your pockets empty
and your stomach treats you cruel,
someone will read beyond your eyes
and see the proudest fool.
I met him somewhere in the past,
when he was passing through,
I can’t forget the act of faith,
and what someone chose to do.
Maybe someday the wheel will turn,
he'll be where I now be.
I'll be picking out a proud man’s face,
who once was fair to me.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment