*not the prompt*

there's a man who lives under a tree

at the store on Locust Street

his hair is long and his clothes are torn

and his eyes are deep and worn

and he smokes a cigarette and stares so far away

i wonder what world he's in and if he'll stay

and every time i come back to that store he's still there

but i can never read the story in his stare.

so i just make up stories and wonder

of what bridge he was under

when he lost every thing

or maybe he gained everything?

maybe he was a rockstar

who sang at bars

and played guitars

or maybe he was in the war

and he knew a girl but she was such a bore

and he wrote love letters but he never know who for

maybe when he was young

he never did what was good

maybe it was cause no one loved him like they should

whatever happened in your life,

and wherever do you go at night?

where is your mind

does anyone know?