clarakatalin

The Rich Man

Are we rich in any way? It may not be material things ….

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Invited in, I shyly stood,
Not knowing if I really should.
You see, I had so much to lose —
A fancy coat, expensive shoes,
My pride of life, my love of booze.

[The door too small to take it all … ]

Undecided, there I stood,
But I could see beyond that door
Some happy people, singing all.
But I would almost have to crawl
To get within that little hall.

I’d have to bend, might have to kneel.
My fear, my pride, I sure could feel.
I turned around, dejected still.

I wandered long; I wandered far,
But in my mind could see the door
Still beckoning, still off’ring hope.

While wandering, I lost the shoes,
The fancy coat, my taste for booze.
Somehow they didn’t seem to give
My soul its very-needed lift.

[My feet were calloused; my soul was bruised …]

I lost my pride; where did it go?
The things I’d thought; they were not so.
Inside-out, it seemed my life;
Continuing, but filled with strife.

Then humbly came I to the door.
I knelt; I crawled, into the hall.
With tears of joy I was received,
And my own tears, my fear, relieved.