Man On The Street

Man on the Street

They looked away
He wasn't like they were,
They walked straight, were clear of skin
and neat,

They turned and whispered
Shook their heads,
He shouldn't be out among us
He should be off the street,

He shuffled along bent and twisted
With blotchy skin and tattered clothes,

He thought to himself
I shouldn't be out on the street,
The way I am;
But no one knows,

There was a time I stood straight as an oak,
Shaved smooth and clean,
The finest clothes and shoes I'd wear,
Before the times were lean,

Then all my treasures turned to dust,
My loved ones walked away,
Success and reputation gone
Hard times and illness filled my days,

I was like them who shun me,
Offended by the sight
What I've become,
A victim of my plight,

If only I could warn them,
If they'd listen to what I say,
But I know better
They'll have to find out their own way

Nancy Ellen Crossland