TOM
by John Yeo
Everyone calls him Tom, who really cares?
He stands with his hand out every day
Never says a word, just stands and stares.
On the same corner of the highway.
I always put a coin in his hand as I passed,
He never smiled, just stared straight ahead.
I often wondered about his life in the past
One day I caught his eye and I said.
"I know who you are, It was a mystery.
I think you are certainly out of place
I have weaved your life into a history
The fall must have hurt but it's no disgrace."
Tom looked shocked and angry.
For the first time ever, he actually spoke.
"I have to beg for food as I'm hungry!
I was wealthy once but now I'm broke."
The voice was nervous, and cultured
Betraying the roots of fine living.
I had guessed a good life was ruptured
Destroyed by cruel fate, unforgiving
"I have written a new turn for your story ."
I said, as I put a coin in his hand.
"You will now be covered in glory
I am a writer you understand."
Everyone called him Tom, who really cared?
He stood with his hand out every day
Never said a word, just stood and stared.
On the same corner of the highway.
The original Tom was a sad mystery.
An unhappy life confined to history.
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.
by John Yeo
Everyone calls him Tom, who really cares?
He stands with his hand out every day
Never says a word, just stands and stares.
On the same corner of the highway.
I always put a coin in his hand as I passed,
He never smiled, just stared straight ahead.
I often wondered about his life in the past
One day I caught his eye and I said.
"I know who you are, It was a mystery.
I think you are certainly out of place
I have weaved your life into a history
The fall must have hurt but it's no disgrace."
Tom looked shocked and angry.
For the first time ever, he actually spoke.
"I have to beg for food as I'm hungry!
I was wealthy once but now I'm broke."
The voice was nervous, and cultured
Betraying the roots of fine living.
I had guessed a good life was ruptured
Destroyed by cruel fate, unforgiving
"I have written a new turn for your story ."
I said, as I put a coin in his hand.
"You will now be covered in glory
I am a writer you understand."
Everyone called him Tom, who really cared?
He stood with his hand out every day
Never said a word, just stood and stared.
On the same corner of the highway.
The original Tom was a sad mystery.
An unhappy life confined to history.
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.