One Last Time

I saw a man wandering lost through the town
His legs were all weary, his face wore a frown
Not willing to conform for he was wearing a gown.

The hospital name printed just above the knee,
It was closed at the front but his bum you could see
With his bits in full view, just dangling free.

All heads they did turn as he passed in the street,
The park bench it did empty as he took a seat.
Absorbing the breeze as it cooled down his feet.

He spent hours on that bench just minding the view
The stares were a plenty, it’s not something you do.
His gown would lift up as the cool air blew.

The people did come to take him back home
They would watch closer so he would not roam.
Into to the car he was put with a distressing moan.

Some ones father today had taken a wonder
He wanted to see what was out there on yonder
His time being precious he would not now squander.

He had a last taste of what he had yearned
His days in the mines, this moment he’d earned
To just sit in the park for this moment he burned.

Back to his room he was taken with haste
For his freedom lost, he had gotten a taste.
Now nothing else mattered, what was there to waste?

His soul would run free after that night
No site of him now could give a fright
For the gown he now wears is a heavenly white.

To that man in the park I give you my smile
Not a glimpse of you will I find vile
Just come sit with me, on this bench for a while.


by Angie_emau