The Old Man with the Kiddie Sword

Lost eyes in a beaten up face
Wrinkles hiding a once youthful face
Tired lips muttering incoherent words
And a scabbed hand holding a kid’s sword
That is the way this stabbed man lives
I can see his oversized blue shirt two streets up
He walks in such a sluggish pace
How many broken dreams does he live with?
How many times has an ant had more food than he?
He’s a lost soul wandering with no aim and no grace
I feel sorry for him
And still so scared
I’m so weak
Dear ma, would you ever find a reason to live?
Can’t someone stop the pain, stop the shame?
Borrow a bullet fro a hunter and end it all
End the suffering of the old man with his kiddie sword