Blue Soup Diner

I am thrust backward from the dream
Shapes slip and disappear
As cream is stirred into the coffee cup.
Now all is the same beige
And it is, as it is supposed to be.
I prefer lemon with my Red Rose tea
However as a non-paying guest
I accept what is given me with all due humility.
As a homeless broke-ass man
I can make no demands or give commands
As if I believe, I am royalty and wear a privileged face.
I know my place.
I am old, plain and of common cloth.
What once I had, is now all lost
Failures have followed me close behind
To all those I meet I have learned to be kind
Lest I be left alone
To sleep on cardboard in the streets.
Such is life for those that grow old.