The Lonely Man... Poem by RIC BASTASA

he stands at the fourth floor
all the walls are made of glass
and he can see the people going in
and out of the mall
he is alone now and the other people here
already left
it is 5: 30 in the afternoon and
the sky is getting dimmer
he is comforted by this idea
that life is too short
and those who enrich themselves
always at the expense of the
gullible and the
ignorant
raking money from those
stupid believers
should never be envied

he must go out from this enclosure
walk his way towards home
where everyone is happily waiting.