untitled 2

the broken man cries in the rain
the sun does not warm his arms
he cannot feel the love inside
he cannot touch his beating heart

he is a statue, filled with pain
a victim of his endless harms
he opens up himself so wide
but the sum is much less than the parts

rain cannot wash away the grief
cannot take away the tears
moon does not bring any relief
and cannot soothe away his fears

i see him there a wasted form
a face with pain in every pore
i want to hold him in my hands
and dry the tears that never stop

others pass, it is the norm
another beggar, what a bore
no one remembers he is a man
they see a beast just fed on slop

but god, if god there really is
you must hear my aching prayer
cleanse him of sins that are his
tell him you are waiting there

he and i are of the same
we are flesh and blood and bone
i shield him gently from the rain
while the light leads him home


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