He came stumbling toward me
Veering left and veering right.
With a bottle in a brown bag
Clutched hard with knuckles white.
He looked like death warmed over
With his half closed bloodshot eyes.
The clothing he wore was tattered
The rags on his feet were shoes in disguise.
He lurched right into my path
And waved the bottle in my face.
With fear and anger I shoved him
For he had gotten into my space.
He fell and his bottle broke
The wine ran down the street.
He gave me a disdainful look
And then he began to speak.
Stranger what you see here isn’t much
I’ve wasted my time on earth
But I’ve hurt only myself not another
Everybody has some worth.
He refused my money
And left me with nothing to say.
For we both knew the better man
Had turned and walked away.
Raymond Morrow
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