when its gone
it’s all gone.
.
your stuff
your dignity
your loved and love.
.
nothing hurts. there’s no more.
threat to you.
you can rest in nothing.
.
he was officially homeless.
.
he smiled more than most.
he wore sun glasses.
with no lenses.
.
he said it was an irony.
.
he possessed a guitar.
and the clothes he wore.
and a blanket.
.
he drank as much as me.
just different liquid.
.
when everything else was closed.
we’d find each other.
we’d laugh and sing.
and drink.
and drink.
and drink.
.
first night he found me.
i was holding up McD’s window.
i couldn’t see 2 fingers in front of my face.
.
you a’ight babe
you got’a home babe.
he asks.
.
nodding all the while
he says:
you lost.
.
that wasn’t a question.
.
picking up my drunk ass
he took me to his ‘place’.
tucked me in with his only blanket.
one last nip.
a pat on the head.
.
you be a’ight.
he says.
.
don’t know where you are now.
.
i hope youre still alive.
.
you showed me more kindness
by the hand of a strange man.
than I had ever had
seen
or deserved.
.
when I told you about my girls
living with their daddy.
you said.
.
we all have a story.
we all lost stuff.
lots of stuff.
.
thank you.
.
and
i hope you found more than your lenses.
kpm ©
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