Once a minister tending his flock,
now living under a bus depot;
not comprehending the difference,
he still preaches daily, suffering
over his sermon as he always has,
pondering deeply the words he will say.
He hopes to change a life, save a soul.
His inner self remains the same,
yet his frame is shrunken from too little food,
his face gaunt, eyes sunken. He shambles
about town, seeking simple inspiration.
Now others treat him like refuse,
not seeing past the ragged attire,
not looking into his probing eyes,
he is the holiest man on earth.