As I walked the crowded streets of Rome,
I saw this man who had no home.
“Good Morning!” He said with a joyous cry,
He then smiled at me as I passed him by.
“Good Morning” I scoffed at him then said,
“It’s raining outside and I should still be in bed!”
Later that day, a man came my way,
It was the same man who loved this day.
I asked the man, “Help me understand:
Why a homeless man would think life so grand?
You have no roof to keep you dry,
Yet you smile so wide – I just don’t get why!”
He laughed a bit, and then took his stand,
“Let me tell you why I think life so grand:
This morning is “good”; all of them are,
And as for the rain it’s a blessing by far.
It cools me down and it feeds the crops,
The sun always will shine, for every rain stops.
What I don’t understand is simply this:
Why you, sir, are not in a state of pure bliss.
You have food, money, and even a home,
While I only have the lonely streets of Rome.
This poem is property of the author. Please use only with permission. Contact email@example.com to use poem. Written by M. Wright.