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A Rambling Guy
It's the beginning of Fall,
chilly days and boring days
are ahead, he notices how tall
are the pines that oversee all;
a rambling guy whistles songs:
does he have a destination in mind,
or he strolls tirelessly to unwind?
His shadow follows him behind!
He longs for his lady's gentle hand,
how distracted are his vague thoughts;
men are very proud of their manhood,
but when they fall it's many desperate tears:
it can happen to anyone not measuring fears,
and unexpectedly all crumbles and shatters!
He spent all his money on cigarettes and beer,
and with a dime in his pocket what can he buy?
Nobody approaches him, they keep going;
should they show empathy for his misery?
Intense is the grief of loss and wandering
he finds nothing of comfort besides jeer!
Cheerful images of kids screaming and playing
make him cry and the relentless tears choke;
and with heaving breath he continues to roam,
not so sure where this long path will lead him!
He wasted his paycheck, smoked deadly coke
and denied reality to pursue what was fulfilling!
He set up a tent in the nearby park and spends
his days playing the harmonica: dimes and nickels
keep clinking, they're enough for a meager meal;
often times his kids walked by and didn't recognize
him with a beard and a filthy face: what a disgrace,
and growing up without him, can their wounds heal?
Copyright ©
Andrew Crisci
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