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Little man on Throckmorton and Seventh,
Your worn collar’s being mocked by the cold.
With your crew cut hair and short Army fatigues,
You’re too young to look so old.
Your shabby jacket has lost its buttons
Is there no one to sew them back on?
Where is your wife? Your friend? Your lover?
Who took your dreams and left you alone?
Your once white socks are graying
Above your G.I. shoes with the heels worn down.
Where do you live? Where are you staying?
It’s freezing. And it’s lonesome at night downtown.
Little man, who took the sparkle
And left you with dim, destitute eyes?
Whose words did you cherish and believe in,
Then find it was nothing but lies?
Little man, you shuffle when you should run.
Your gait is arthritic, too painful, too rough.
Your face is more desolate than your future.
Little man, who didn’t love you enough?
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Loved the Poem. It reminds me of a homeless Vet. There are way too many like that out there. It is a very moving piece, and it brought tears to my eyes. Thanks for sharing and sorry it took me so long to see it. I don't twitter or do Facebook yet. My kids tell me on the information highway that I am roadkill, too old-school I guess. I look forward to reading more of your work.
Daniel S. Taylor