by Richard Frankland

Created on: March 01, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

Could you be?

I see you slumped by a wall in a pool of piss,
a can of special brew lies spilled by your feet.
With your clothes badly soiled and an unshaven face,
the stench tells me you haven't washed for days.
Your skin is badly calloused,
your eyes are bruised.
Your nails are yellow from nicotine stains.
And as people walk past they turn their heads,
they look the other way, any way but your way.
Others verbalize quite audibly their disgust at your sight.
And you just sit and smile, you shout and swear,
you talk to things that just aren't there.
Yet I wonder often who you are?
Were you sent to disturb me, wake me up with a start.
I wonder this often but most would laugh.
If in-fact you are an Angel here in disguise.
With a message for me and all who pass.
Teasing me to respond with kindness or love.
Seeking out goodness in this soulless town.
I wonder it often, it makes me respond,
if you could be an angel in disguise.

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