I've planned since the moment
I turned fourteen
Unclear and ignorant
A love, premature
Nobody sings in this old building
I did, but shouts covered my voice
Like sirens in hurricane season
A boy, now a man, no one gave the time of day to
A few would wave, and I always said "Hi."
A knife in the back
Plastic bag on my forearm
Full of liquor
I met with a bum from around the corner
He had no teeth and a heart of gold
He had nothing to give yet gave more
Than all the Donald Trumps of the world
A shadow man bathed in light
He had no roof, not even a cardboard box
He is, on the outside, my inner self
Like a copycat with no skin
Hailstorms from my eyes came pouring down
They penetrated my ribcage
So the bruises never fade away
As I said my goodbyes,
The Bum wanted to give me a penny
I told him I had no use for it
He said "I know it seems useless, but keep it...
I found it face up; I'm passing you the good luck"
Though luck is for the believers and the foolish
I knew all too well the meaning of useless
As if I'm a wordsmith rehearsing
With his dictionary
I've been through hell and back
Ain't no penny ever save me
Ain't no God at my doorstep
So what is luck?
I thought about it as the
Hot rooftop burned my feet
But I'm not a believer, so
Face down, this penny will land.
©2011 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.