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The Homeless Man

Someone asked me for some poetry and here’s what I came up with.

“The Homeless Man”

There’s a homeless man who plays guitar
I hear his songs when I fill up my car

He makes his home in a little green tent
It’s over the wall, outside my apartment

Sometimes I wonder if it’s just me
But is anyone jealous that he is rent free?

People feel bad and give him their cash
He has no need to dig in the trash

He talks all the time, though he doesn’t talk much
Yelling at cars or at his own lunch

He’s got new wagon to carry his stuff
No really, it’s true, I’m not making it up

Long brown hair and a beard to match
Maybe there was a day when he was a great catch

Smoking is something he does with ease
But being kind to others just won’t please

He’s got a Bible that he reads real loud
But what it means I don’t think he’s found

What has happened to this poor soul
That he lost his home and he’s out in the cold?

Maybe things will change and just get better
But until then we’ll pray for good weather.

7 replies on “The Homeless Man”

Shermie,

That was so funny. I was waiting for a whopper of an ending though. Something about you two playing the guitars and then he comes to Christ.
You are a young man of many talents! B is so blessed!

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