Bleecker st Saint

Wasted and drawn in sallow skin,
Was a man of greatness,
Who stood in the rain.
Passing him by, were the upright and bold,
Had they stopped to listen,
They would have known.
He stood for a cause,
Free advice to the meek.
Still people ignored him,
Called him crazy and freak.
Some tossed change,
In pity and shame.
Though the man never begged,
He shouted about war,
And the president.
He stood for reason,
In his own mind.
No one really knew,
About this man’s life.
He could have once been,
A man of worldly stature!
A leader! A team player!
Your lawyer, or neighbor.
Anyone really,
Cause aren’t we all really strangers?
Maybe we are the insane,
Out in the rain,
Just passing by,
What might be,
A Bleecker St Saint.

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