PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The crinkly black man loped along,
while whistling weezy sixties songs,
he leaned the right and looked the left
and raised his boney, hairy head,

his words were honest, clear and clean,
and rolled live leaves upon a stream,
"A buck and ten I beg my boy,
I'm patchin for a bottl-a-beer",

his old eyes smiled a cheeky love,
a soft love for the world's soft souls,
and in a blink I think I fell,
forever down those endless holes,

and when I landed I remembered
all his life from birth to now,
and not an unjust word was uttered,
not an unjust thought was found,

I would have cried for all his peace,
I nearly died a happy man,
the earth could offer no increase
to what I found within that man,

but all that world was shifted quickly,
a blink and on the street I stood,
a buck and ten was all he asked,
a buck and ten was all I could,

he bowed his head and gave his grace
away he whistled sixties songs,
and no one's love would ev' replace
the crinkly black man who loped along.