A Yorkshire Poet Poet Dramatic Verse

Murmurings of a Lone Man

The words of a lone man
The ramblings on a bench under a tree

The ducks and the geese looked on
Fed with his scraps, with all he could give

Murmuring thoughts
Murmuring truths
Murmuring reasons
Murmurings lose

Under the facade of a poor man
A man living on the streets

I saw the eyes of a cold man
I saw scars on his cheeks

I asked him if I could sit beside him 
here in the park on his bench.
He acknowledged my presence and 
let me feel I had caused no offence.

He showed the ducks his empty 
hands and they all looked at him so 
quietly.
He said to them he had no more 
food or money.

I asked him his name
He asked: why ask that of me?

Silence for some seconds then he 
said this to me:

I have no name, my name has 
forsaken me.

Under the whiskers and drawn 
face I see a much younger man.
I asked if I could help him with 
notes of money in my hand.

He said he need not my money 
because he could live off the land.

A young veteran sat before me, 
someone who had fought for 
this land.

He said his family couldn’t cope 
with his injuries - his mental scars!
That they feared living with him 
in their world, someone who had 
killed in their house!

So he pleaded to me to forget him, 
to pretend that we’d never met!

As I watched him limp away I 
had never felt such despair 
and regret.

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