What Stories Do You See?

There is a ring

It hangs on a gold chain

Around my neck

What does it mean to you

When it appears

Am I sad, do I look it?

Or was that a smile you caught as I

Shared a joke with you,

Being polite in an old fashioned

Kind of way

Something trivial in answer to

Have a nice day.

What is my story

Does it make you think

There might be more

Than what you see and do you care?

What about that other man

Where? Over their

He is barely holding on

Leaning on a doorpost

Raggedly breathing

With an aroma of sadness

And second hand smoke

Was he once a stokey?

A proud young man

Before his world

Came tumbling down

What is his story?

Collapsed lungs and frayed heartaches

Surround you if you care to look

So many with stories

You could write a book

And see how much better you will feel

When you come to see

What is really there,

Right in front of you.

If you raise your eyes above your navel.

Stop gazing at that young woman’s chest

The one in the tight vest,

Does your mother know

You have sunk so low?

So many lonely ones with no connection

Afraid of rejection

The awkward reception

Whenever they speak out.

Too old to party too young to let go

But they know they are not seen

For whom they are but how they seem

And nobody takes the trouble

To find out

What an old guy

In the corner is all about.

It is such a drag

Did you smell the old hag?

The one in the fur coat

With a shopping trolley

And a carrier bag

Made into a hat

What do you think about that?

Somebody should have a word

Letting them out on the street

Is quite absurd

It is a disgrace

What about the old man with the grimy

Leather lined face?

He looks a little familiar

Is that a peculiar reality

Or just a warped perception

Oh no it is a reflection

In the mirror behind the bar

And what I see is me.