Less Than Perfect
I was wondering when I saw that bearded old man on his little sheet of chequered red.
With his legs tucked away and his ribs giving away his long days of being unfed.
I was wondering even more when I saw her sitting there dejectedly,watching him sleep.
As if her troubles were not enough for her, she had to bring more from him to keep.
And then as my car whooshed by I turned my head around to see my mistake.
She was not there for him, the pain behind the pain in those eyes could not be fake.
As my head set itself into motion to look at the road ahead again.
My heart ached silently in the morning rush to feel that same pain.
What would I not give to feel that pain again, exihilirating thrill.
I would give anything to feel that longing brood against my will.
To trust again, to love free of fear of what does it all really mean.
This story is about him& her but also of what could have been.
I thought of naming this "him & her" but i dunno why "less than perfect" jumped to my mind n took precedence.