A Square Peg in the Circle of Life



A raspy voice whispered, “Hey, lady, got a dime?
For two shiny nickels, I’ll sing you a rhyme.”
His stage was a street corner littered with trash;
Loathing his living, I tossed him some cash.

He picked up his guitar and strummed it with care,
Gazing upon horizon with a blank stare.
Feeling comfort in my good deed done today,
I turned swiftly in disgust to walk away.

Get a real job to myself, I muttered,
When an angel’s voice made my heart flutter.
No gravelly tone in his melody so sweet;
I found myself drifting to a concrete seat.

He sang of memories behind clouded panes,
Of hidden wounds draining life from veins.
A square peg subsisting in circle of life
Not whittled quite right by societies’ knife.

"Sadness resembles a liquid key," he crooned,
Unlocking from his soul this salty tune.
His haunting lyrics imbued my being,
As I sensed my misconceptions fleeing.

We can’t all adapt to molded cast of life
Though pressured to reshape our clay of strife.
In my tearful, hesitant, yet hasty retreat,
I flipped more coins to the peddler on street.



Copyright 2004 by Kathleen