you know its real
when the 6'3 man sits in a fading orange chair
sinking into the depths of antique springs
brown, steel toe boots retired
knuckles scabbed
reading glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose
who is he?
just a bearded man,
sitting in a coffee shop reading an economics book?
an ex-spy winding down after a long day of paperwork?
a hopeless poet waiting for his muse to come back?
a pleasant glean on his face
a half smile
focused,
determined,
seemingly stoic
as his wristwatch beeps
signaling who knows what
he stands,
stretches,
breathe in,
breathe out,
pace
we are all the same
humans, trying to get by
figuring out this life thing
all we want isn't all we need
scarlet souls
living out loud
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment