John can see tomorrow, tries to tell others, but no one listens. WC Entry 8/14/13
A Simple Man
He saw the world clearly, like no one else could,
With inner sight, he’d be rich, if only he would,
Clean up a little, new clothes, shave and shower,
Maybe then people would hear his message of power
Homeless he was, it was what he preferred,
But his message, from that he’d not be deterred.
Each day he’d touch someone, in a very subtle way,
And on the ‘morrow, a boon would make them sway.
T’was rarely a physical touch, more like a nudge,
For he wanted to help, never force or shove.
He knew what the ‘morrow would bring for them,
Showed them the way, but none ever thanked him.
They weren’t aware of his gift, the inner sight,
Saw a smelly, dirty, homeless man who’d lost his fight.
That’s what people thought, how could they know?
That he’d seen the ‘light’, which path he should follow.
He could ‘feel’ a person and know their next day,
But tell them about it? They’d not listen, no way!
How could one listen to someone in his state?
For all they knew, his plight would be their fate.
It wasn’t always this way, he had lived a fine life.
Had taken his love, been her mate, she his wife.
The inner sight had come unbidden, out of the blue,
It was a day he’d not forget, one he would always rue.
One morning he kissed her goodbye, saw with inner sight,
Her betrayal, her plan to remove him from her life.
He left her that day, never called, nor returned,
He felt so filthy, as if he’d been walked on, spurned.
To prevent her tracking him, or knowing where he was,
He became homeless, went nameless, all for just cause.
She had connections, she was a politician,
His absence from her would never be questioned.
One day she passed near, never gave him a second look.
But he could read her easily, like a wide open book.
Smiled a broad smile, and went the other way,
Never said a word to her, on this her last day.
The next day he started to live his life once again,
Cleaned up and worked hard, became a new man.
Got a job and an apartment, lived life anew,
Realized suddenly, that tomorrow he could not view.
He felt relieved of a burden, for none had heard,
A homeless man helping them? That was absurd!
He never married again, but listened as best he could
To those who were homeless, wished others would.
Suddenly one day, the inner sight returned once more,
But it was foreboding, not at all like before.
He saw nothing but blackness, knew his demise was near,
Predicted his death the next day, again no one would hear.
On his tombstone is a short epitaph,
“Here lies a simple man, John LeGraf,
He never said much that anyone recalls,
He was deaf and blind, a mute after all.”