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Helping Hand
Demoralization, self-pity,
These surround the man in the city.
Dingy alleys, dim, dark smog,
He sees life as a fog.
He’s lost his spark, his fight.
He’s living in shades of black and white.
Sitting and waiting without sway,
This is how he spends his day.
Occasionally he’ll hope and pray,
Pray that the world will end today.
Faithless and lost, hanging on by a hinge,
Then nears a soul burning bright, the gray begins to singe.
Another being has come who cares,
To answer all his fervent prayers.
Welcomed as a gallant knight
To set his candle back alight.
A little help, that’s all it takes,
Simple, “a piece of cake.”
That bleak, blank colorless world
Suddenly pierced by a rainbow swirl.
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