The old man sits on the bench,
Begging for change and some attention,
Needing this exceeding thirst to quench,
Really needs necessities in his retention,
Man goes by the name of John Mench,
Had no clue where he was from,
Could be Canadian could be French,
Hadn't been to school in his life,
Life was filled with aversion,
Nobody felt like taking him in,
Then at the young age of ten,
Began his sought after excursion,
Dressed in raggedy clothes,
Taking no personal possessions where he goes,
Seeking after whatever life proposed,
Had no care if anybody opposed,
This was his whole life,
Saw visions that nobody would have even thought of,
The typical explorer people envy over,
A free roamer,
A great rover,
His grief over loss began to scab over,
Family and love no longer a virtue,
At the age of forty approximately,
As nobody knew his real age obviously,
He settled in the city of Battue,
A little city nobody had heard of,
Named after a certain type of hunt,
All the little children knew him,
Told the town of his stories and visions,
To them he was a peacemaker,
If there was a quarrel he spread love,
When there was uneasiness,
John Mench played the role of the "ice-breaker",
Went from an unwanted orphan,
To a great leader of a town,
Who spread peace time and time again,
Yet still kept his character,
Wore the same quality clothes,
The same selfless ego,
In life he went from nothing to something,
Mediocre to town joker,
Bacteria to diphtheria,
Worst to the best,
When townspeople needed help Mench endued,
This was only the beginning,
Only a scratch on the surface,
As his journey continued...
