2/24/09 - Lonesome Hobo's Poetry

From the stolen diary of a Lonesome Hobo lying in Washington Square Park

I am a Lonesome Hobo who threw away his wealth
I squandered love on someone else, forgot about myself

I am the tightrope walker, just before he falls
I looked for my love in the crowd and noticed she was gone

I clothe myself in garbage, material and fake
The tattered shreds reflect my heart, scared in disarray

I cast you in my movie, you said you loved the script
You changed the lines without me knowing, boy do I feel jipped

Today I shoot the camera, I hide behind the lens
I wish that could do or say that which would make amends

Meet me in the park sometime, beneath our fav'rite tree
The place you swore undying love and gave your heart to me

I would sing you a folk song, about life that never ends
But I'd rather share my heart with you, than remain as simply friends.

I'm told I must stop rhyming, that my lines are played and cheap
The most beautiful, profundities, in my mind I'll keep