Drifter

I met a homeless man today,
Who taught me how to feel.
He taught me that the pain I've felt.
Has never been truly real.

I've never known true sorrow,
I cant grasp the concept of pain.
I've never known what its like.
To be homeless in freezing rain.

I've never been affected by racism.
No one I'm close to has ever died.
Everything he has been through,
Makes me curious how he survived.

He didn't beg me for money,
Just sat down to say hello.
To tell me his life story,
Just in case I'd like to know.

He told me to call him T,
To just listen so I could grow.
And even when I offered him a hand out,
He only replied with no.

He talked with a broken charisma,
Like the man had been sucked from the bone.
He expressed such wisdom,
But in such a dead beat tone.

He could barely look me in the eye,
As he told me these stories of pain,
He changed my life today,
And I don't even know his real name.

He makes any pain I've ever felt,
Seem so minute and wrong.
The only thing I am sad about,
Is I couldn't be that strong.

I could never overcome what he has,
There is no possible way,
How could a suburban white kid,
Understand such poverty and dismay.

Its hard to grasp the concept.
Of such a torn and riddled man,
But I'm trying hard to understand,
And do with it what I can.

My heart goes out to T,
A man torn with tribulation.
I thank him for what he shared,
And for that, he has my admiration...

(C) JP 2007