A look at life from the other side. |
I noticed without noticing that figure lounging there, with stubble grown across a cheek and filth encrusted hair; he sprawled across the doorway to an empty, soaped glass store, and as I traveled on my way his voice, cracked and implored; "Oh look upon me, mister man; whose life is far more fine, for once like you I hurried by a prisoner of time. I scurried without pausing and ignored the pain of life but, one day then I did awake without job, home or my wife. Now I lay here in this filth unkempt, ashamed and ill, and look upon the world anew with eyes long trained and skilled. You see you hurry out of fear that one day you might be, the figure laying here alone replacing even me. For each day is ever unknown and we'd rather not sustain that feeble little gnawing rat that lives inside our brain; at just how heavy is the load we pile upon our backs, denying that our lives can change like some rail car on the tracks. We haughtily conspire in mind, to pay no heed to those whose life has somehow gone astray as they lay in tattered clothes. We pander to the money men, we pander to the wealth, we linger in the sunlit world and avoid the shadows stealth. Look now here in the darkness, at this place where all is lost; for one day you might linger here and daily count the cost. |