New Orleans to Nashville

Today I met a man from New Orleans.

As I pulled down my street, I noticed a man across the way
A man who seemed some what out of place
A man who had parked in front of my house, a place he thought belonged to me
He ran to his truck trying to move it in time for me to park
He apologized left and right
Explaining he didn't know where he was supposed to park
He assured me that he would move his truck right away so that I could have my parking spot,...the one he thought belonged to me.

I smiled and told him it wasn't a bother, that this was the life of the city
The street belongs to all of us, even him,...no one has a "parking spot" here
He kept wanting to make things right, worried that he had offended me
Again I smiled, re-assured him that where I parked was just fine.

Soon after, he introduced himself and stated he was from New Orleans
Seconds went by before my brain could comprehend those simple
But very intense words.
He began to tell me about his wife and why he was spending his afternoon
on the sidewalk across the street.
The building she was currently in held the next step to the never ending
paper work for their new life.
The city had given them a place of there own today
He seemed very grateful that they had running water and a real place to sleep
But the mention of home,...well his words became much softer and less abundant
All was lost, nothing was left, home was gone

As the conversation was ending, we spoke of the hills of tennessee
the flat valleys of Louisanna and the huge mountains of the west coast
Nashville is very different, landscapes and all
But its home now and it will definately due
Its the place that "the Lord has provided"

We parted ways with a simple but sweet handshake
Tears in my heart, and tears in his soul
I went inside and he went back to the street lamp across the way
There he stood until his wife came to meet him
And at that moment,...I saw the true story
Her face spoke a thousand words

Her sorrow could not be disguised
She had survived, but with the loss of her past and the uncertainty of her future
She had little, if any hope of true happiness

What was once only on my television was now at my front door
New Orleans is in Nashville

Sigh...

i need

a

cigarrette

a

bottle of rum

m

o

r

e

SEXXX

and

a

manifesto

better than

FUCK

BLANK

I'm twenty six
I am eight years older
I'm not in my early twenties

I am confused
Lost
Disillusioned
I am out of place.

Have I been sleeping?
Was my trip longer than what I remember?
Or have I simply just hit that age?

A constant rumble...
A nagging cloud...
The more I notice, the more it grows

Faded
Dumpy
Limp
Lacking
Lethargic
Colorless
Dull
Boring

Another spec on the great wall.

Tears

They were born with nothing
They grew up with nothing
And with one swipe,...
They now have less than nothing

My soul cries
My soul bleeds
They cry harder
And bleed so much more

Mercy of God! Mercy of God!
I beg of you to be upon those who are barely surviving
Those who are at the verge of death

I pray for Wisdom and Miracles
Selflessness and Grace
Provision and Warmth
And the Chance that so many are not willing to give