10. lonesome

there he goes again,

the poor, lonely man

sitting out on his porch,

20 something, handsome,

but there was never

a smile on his face

when i saw him seated

on the porch’s bench.

he’d merely stare

if you gave him a wave,

i’d only see the man

drink his sorrows away,

the feeling of emptiness,

often only internal,

suddenly felt as though

it jumped out and sat

right next to him.

what was he thinking?

what was his story?

why did he hurt?

what caused his pain?

a picture on the porch,

his mom and his dad,

pops left, mom’s dead,

now it’s only him,

gotta make it on his own,

i’d like to hear his stories out,

bet he’d make you feel the pain

in every word he’d say.

pray for his peace,

pray he finds himself,

pray that, one day,

he makes his mama proud.