The Prophet

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Glass Sandcastle
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A poem about the tragedy of homelessness..

Submitted: February 28, 2017

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Submitted: February 28, 2017



A sweater of cashmere brown

Thoughts jumbled

Deep lines and a frown

Running shoes of

The latest brand

A cigarette held

In his hand

And everyone asked,

"Who is this man?"

Every morning at ten

He would begin again

A litany of stock market stats

Investor's surprise

With wisdom in eyes

He would counsel on

Which stocks to buy

Hints he would drop

At the corner doughnut shop

As people stared in awe

No claim to fame

Not even a name

Mental illness is

What everyone saw

As they looked with suspicion

Acknowledged erudition

A paradox arose

"He is definitely bright,

But something's not right.

What it is nobody knows."

I saw him last night

In the fading twilight

In a ditch near an old oak tree

His bed on the ground

I can't forget what I found

He was living outdoors for free

It was late in the day

I heard the radio say

The market crashed

At half past two

I knew in a flash

His stocks survived the crash

In his mind somehow he knew

And even now, I question how

A man without a name

Was ahead of his time

Yet could not find

A place to lay his head

They walk among us now

Yet, few surmise

The homeless and lost

Prophets in disguise. .........

This story is true. He lived in my town. The poem is simple, but I wanted to tell his story. He came from a wealthy family.

© Copyright 2017 nika2020. All rights reserved.

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