He sits there all day everydayAll the lustre and sparkle of life out of his eyes
Just hanging in there like a burned out lamp
People passing, Strangers but very familiar to him
Some are the regulars, rushing off to work every morning
Some just passer bys
He knows their names, he sees them through his eyes
Weary, beaten and down throdden
Yet he feels better than they can ever be
The mothers with their children, taking them to school
They have that to worry about, strains of married life on their faces
Men in their cars, chasing the vanities of life
Insatiable in their pursuits for happiness
Young girls all donned up, paints on their faces
Hoping every male eye rests on themYoung men with their swaggering steps pose so hard
Yet lacking confidence about their future in their hearts
Problems pass here everydayAll clothed up in all kinds of clothes in all shades imaginable
Their various names imprinted on it
Then there are the poor, the rich
The noise of the market starting up drones on behind
Through his eyes,
Dust rise and busy humans scurry about
He sits there in the corner
'I am better than them, I have no one to look after, no vanities to chase, I have no need for a change of clothes
I have no care in the world, just to sit here all day. I don't even beg anymore, all I do is just sit'
He smiles to himself
Yes, yet another day, let up the curtain and let the plays begin
The same one that played yesterdat, and the before and the day before before
just a slight change in the act
But same as always
The world through his eyes
Life is just a big joke!
That's what it all means to this very old begger I pass on my way to work every morning.
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