This poem is specially for my friend, Johannes Swanepoel . THE BEARDED MAN One morning, a bearded man covered a slab Next to me, on the pavement where I sit Here I solicit support from commuters’ Sitting next to discarded wraps, from Greggs. The man levelled with me, offered me a Portion from his soda-bread, advised me to live A life that’s worth. Since then, I shed the needles Into the bin, and turned into a Saint. Job centres and libraries became my port of rest Picked up a paper delivery job, at the Newsagent Bathed, shaved, and ready to live like a man My change was complete, because of him. Years passed, and old habits breathed revenge Old witches revisited my haunted home Vultures plundered on last slivers of flesh and My lack of will returned me to bad old ways. The wayside slab was mine again; decrepit Hungry, and empty Baked Bean can in hand. Scarce pennies dripped like desert rain; Needles surfaced, liquid powder filled my veins. I wondered, where my bearded friend had gone When I needed him again to change my ways, I hugged the pavement in vain, in chill and rain Begging forgiveness from Heaven, for my sins. Penniless and dying I lay cocooned in my Cardboard box, soaked in rain, and then, at last, Erect like a rock-face, appeared the bearded man Right in front of my box, looking calm and serene. I’ll give you strength, he said, don’t give up the fight. Use inner power from the Saviour of mankind. Find the silver lining beyond those dark clouds, knowing That the gracious God will always stand by your side. Suddenly the dark clouds parted, light spilled through, The darkness was shifting, and my soul was singing. Beliefs flew back to me and I survived the rot The shackles shattered, and I was human again. Years had passed, and the pavement slab is now bare Stray vagrants would often visit who needed care. I never needed him again, because I knew since then That the bearded man in my heart will always be there.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Aug 2013 12:38:18 +0000
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