An exhausted tattered gentleman
Walked slowly down the street
Casting his eyes downward
Just gazing at his feet
His troublesome life’s journey
Had taken an unfortunate turn
Pain showed through his hollow eyes
That he never deserved or earned
People pass him by on the street
And look on in disgust
At this very quiet gentleman
That they really do distrust
If only they would impart
Just the time of day
A smile that costs them nothing
What a meager price to pay
To lesson this man’s burden
To tell him there is hope
If he knew someone really cared
He might just somehow cope
This man has wandered aimlessly
Since mental illness struck
A diagnosis sadly, was never made
Before the man ran out of luck
No one ever asked him why
His thoughts came out confused
No one ever took his hand
Or helped him find a clue
This exhausted tattered gentleman
Walked slowly down the street
Casting his eyes in a downward way
Ignoring those he meets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem