There Lays More Beneath

Tawdry and unkempt he may be but full of wisdom when he speaks scrape off the dirt and grimy skin he maybe winsome underneath who knows what lies beneath it all who knows the depths  that his riches go and flow as if like magic, an alchemist unknown who knows if he once had a throne just because now he has nowhere to go beggars belief, he is a beggar of the street yet there is mystery about the way he shuffles his feet and grinds his teeth with sparkling deep limpid eyes ask no questions, he tells no lies  yet within him there is more so is this vagabond look simply a disguise am I being fooled here before my eyes tear strain cheeks shows he has cried maybe over a thousand lifetimes wrinkled parchment coloured skin you can feel the grime almost sinking in through the pores on his face and on the cuts on his hands this is truly a quixotic man for he fails to meet our fixed demands on what homeless perceptions command he is vital yet, resonates life and light too much going on behind them eyes to classify this downtrodden man as beaten.