Tossing out The Crumbs

by Andrew O. Leskinen

He lived in a grey suit that had seen its better days

Settled into the park bench that I rushed by every day

He wore a knowing smile, grey fedora and gold watch

Tossing out discarded crumbs to his pigeon flock

He wasn’t old I suppose you would say

Not older than the man I faced in my mirror every day

Perhaps more worn, more wiser, would be true

What he had been through, I had yet to do

Early this morning I pulled out my suit,

Tossed it on with care, what else could I do

Their words from last night, still running through my head,

The Company has determined, we won’t be needing you again

So this morning I stepped out into the light

I stumbled down the path that I had strode in every day

Then the bakery door swung open and the old man shuffled out

Heading for his park bench and an impatient pigeon flock

I watched him fade away, no one seeing as he passed

Forgotten by society, until he breathes his very last

So as old lives fade away, new ones will appear

Maybe there was room for two, on that park bench alone

Just tossing out the crumbs, instead of going home