Left Behind

The man's jean jacket was faded
and had a few rips here and there.
Years of wear and tear aided
in its near demise;
brought the occasional stare.
Signaled, perhaps, that the man told occassional lies.

White lies mind you!
After all, he had to survive.
He bent over to tie his left shoe,
the other was okay.
He now was ready to strive,
to begin all over again once again,
on this fine Navy day.
A day so fine it alone could end all sin.

But he had a lot of sin to end.
This man and his jean jacket.
He rared back and began to send
out good vibes and wishes.
Passers-by wondered what was all the racket.
He then suddenly realized that he had left his home
without even finishing the dishes!
He out here alone with the urge to roam.

The man took off his jean jacket.
It was too hot around this place!
He almost left his keys in the pocket.
So, he double-checked everything
and then went back to his ego-driven race.
A race against time.
Leaving behind all meaning,
all notions of reason or rhyme.

Miles later the man realized he had left it.
Left his jean jacket with the rips on a bench.
His companion for many a year.  Shit!
He turned around and headed back.
Turned so quickly he nearly fell into a trench.
Some things you just can not leave behind.
Like memories and an old jean jack.
Hopefully, the latter he could at least find.

-------------------------------------------
mindbringer, 22 October 2013