Better...Paradise

He sits there, all alone Waiting for a miracle Waiting for a god to help him Waiting

His limbs grow weaker Thin, weak Useless And still he waits

The ebb and flow of people become waves, Traffic noise becomes the hypnotic noise The grey overcast sky is brilliant azure blue The hard cold ground sunwarmed sand Heat washes over him This is Paradise

Her bare feet trail in the sand Her simple white dress flows in the breeze, Clinging to her voluptuous figure Her auburn hair cascades down to her waist His eyes open in wonder

She stops before him Pale translucent skin Glowing, ethereal beauty She reaches a slender hand out

He tries to move his hand But its too weak, too thin Too wasted The pain in his eyes was clear

She smiles radiantly down upon him His limbs are strong once more He reaches and takes her hand Calloused and weathered in pale and slender

I watch the pure happiness in the old tramps eyes turn glassy His face relax His final, shuddering breath His body slumps As he moves on to a better life.