The Never-Wilting Wallflower

There sits a man on the corner of second and third,

With beady eyes that long lost their light,

And a silent voice that screams of desperation.

 

Where did it all go wrong? He must ask himself each day,

As he watches people pass with nothing to say.

A small, rusty tin lay at his feet.

Too proud to beg,

Yet too hungry to deny defeat.

 

Etched into his face lay the cruelties of the world,

But don’t pity the man who accepts his fate,

He lives his life as a never-wilting wallflower.

 

He observes the stage and all its actors,

He knows their routine, he learns their secrets.

And beneath his lips, the answers can be found,

But like a sphinx with a secret, he won’t ever make a sound.

Reviews

[Tabby H.]

I love this.I can't get over the name........"The Never Wilting Wallflower".Beautiful.Emotional.Thought provoking.Quite a way with words.

[Scott Lawlor]

Thank you very much, I really appreciate it.