Man with a grin

Writing is an art,

not constrained by time.

My pen came to a halt,

nothing yet rhymed.

A day in the park,

my heart spoke to me.

If i listen to him,

inspiration may come on one knee.

Wonderful breeze,

played with my hair.

The warmth of the sun,

welcomed me to this day.

I saw him,

he who shall inspire me.

The man with a grin,

brought my key.

A tall-thin man,

with mischievous eyes,

with a weird smile,

wore a crooked tie.

He plucked a flower,

and placed between his teeth.

he walked with a skip,

and clapped in a beat.

He confessed his love,

and promised her everything.

But got slapped in return,

delivered with cruelty.

No walk of shame,

no signs of remorse.

He waited with patience,

with nothing but hope.

He smiled and waved,

then plucked another flower.

he went under the shed,

and looked for another lover.

So much life he carried,

a hard thing to write.

Yet i felt a smile,

rising in my mind.