Face etched by a life of lost, long-gone time,
Painted in resignation & gritty city-street-grime,
Long old army coat drags through sidewalk droppings,
Ignored by walkers, workers & ladies doing their shopping,
Murky-pond eyes & long grey straggling beard,
Make him the devil to be ignored, shunned & feared.
By cruel city louts, forever being taunted & teased,
By society, daily, being cussed at, ousted & squeezed,
“Be off with you man, get out, shove off and move on,
You drunk, you idiot, nothing but a stupid moron”,
He´s heard it all & many times, this old veteran of war,
Hobo, vagabond, good-for-nothing, tramp & much more.
He once wore his country´s uniform with such glowing pride,
Protecting his country, defending his people & all on our side,
His medal for bravery, now gone in hunger, he sold for a crust,
His old army boots, leaking in cold & now turning to dust,
Now lost and alone in the land he defended, his city´s grey rain,
In his lonely sad eyes, all that is left are his tears of pain.
His only possessions, a broken chain with his dead wife´s locket,
Which he keeps secretly with love, in the deep soul of his pocket,
And a dog-eared Bible by his heart, in the depths of his threadbare coat,
Which reminds him that no matter what; God is near & never remote,
Our unsung, forgotten hero, the hermit, will just keep on plodding,
And with tear-stained smile, away from us he walks, sadly nodding.
© Copyright, Sue Lobo 2015
Response to our Inspiration Call on November 3, 2015
Photo Credit: © FreeImages.com
Categories: Featured Writer's