Perspective
I found myself in darkened days
The forecast then was looking bleak
No matter how I tried it seemed
that I was on a losing streak
Well, losing may not be the word
but life had simply gotten dull
No light could ever penetrate
the gray clouds whirling in my skull
On one especially gloomy night
it was my turn to volunteer
serving meals inside a shelter
twice a month throughout the year
Then afterwards, while cleaning up
and nearly ready to go home
behind me spoke a tiny voice
the inspiration for this poem
This young black child standing there
of six years old, maybe seven
said to me "Thank you for coming"
which was spoken straight from heaven
He gave me such a loving smile
and then returned from whence he came
Choked up, I said "You're very welcome"
never asking for his name
While thinking of this little boy
as I drove home I shed some tears
as much for him as for myself
and all my empty wasted years
This precious one without a home
with no possessions to his name
had managed such a cheerfulness
which brought to me a sense of shame
This child opened up my eyes
and gave to me a needed dose
of cold perspective in the face
so now I hold my blessings close
All of which were right around me
all along, but I was blind
The things I thought that I had lost
that little boy had helped me find
Was that child heaven sent?
Perhaps an angel in disguise?
Whichever way I think of him
it brings a teardrop to my eyes
I pray for him from time to time
and never shall forget him, no
And when I'm very old and gray
my mind will find him smiling so
If I could speak to him once more
there's just one thing I'd like to say
"Thank YOU for coming, little friend,
you saved my life one darkened day"
Mike Wise
11-9-19
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