The Farmer Poem by Alicia Meyers

A slight breeze blew across the field,
Allowing the blossoms to sway forward and back,
As the fruits and vegetables start to yield,
The farmer never had a chance to have some slack.

As he harvests the supplies,
The sweat on his head got more dense,
Looking like cries,
That was made from the hard work that was commenced.

Now this farmer grew up to be alone,
As he had no inmates,
Nor friends to come by his home,
As if he was unwanted like hell stood by the gates.

His parents died at a young age,
He was a just a teenager by those days,
As the human services lead him into what he called a cage,
He was held captive until someone came.

As he turned eighteen and no one came,
He was set free but had nowhere to go,
He had nothing on him - such a shame,
Until human services once again showed.

They gave him some money every week,
A house with a farm,
And animals that was sleek,
But it didn't give him any charm.

As the years began to leave,
The seasons change,
He stays the same yet gets changed differently,
As he keeps the farm house at its range.

Yesterday he was still alone,
Until last night he wouldn't wake,
He left up to heaven where he'd go home,
He is in his peaceful place.