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The Man From Lone Tree Way

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  • The Man From Lone Tree Way


    There's a man
    I once saw ev'ry day
    and he lived in a box
    on Lone Tree Way.

    His long, matted blonde hair
    had become dreadlocks
    And he walked around town
    without shoes or socks.

    He had white specks in his hair
    like little grains of white rice.
    But when I looked at them closely
    I saw they were lice.

    Although, this man
    wasn't neat or clean
    he was the nicest young man
    I had ever seen

    You would see him most times
    reciting new rhymes
    He recited a rhyme
    It sounded divine
    So, I finally walked up
    and shared one of mine

    Now, there were plenty of times
    we would share our best rhymes
    And although you wouldn't know it
    he was an excellent poet

    He came up with this rhyme
    from off the top of his head
    And this is a rhyme
    that he once said:
    "In my head I have rocks
    I may live in a box
    And although I'm ugly,
    I married a fox!"

    Now, I liked it so much
    I made him say it twice
    then I took him somewhere
    to get rid of his lice

    Now, washing wasn't part
    of his normal routine
    and because he lived on the streets
    he just couldn't stay clean

    But at least he smelled good
    and he'd wash when he could
    And like most homeless people
    he was misunderstood

    But because Lone Tree Way
    was such a bustling street
    he could always go through the garbage
    to find something to eat

    Now, I know that sounds sad
    but it's the only option he had
    But if you listen to him tell it
    the food wasn't that bad

    His pride wouldn't let him
    beg, borrow or steal
    He'd rather go through the garbage
    to find his next meal

    It's a shame what some people
    have to do to survive
    But that's what he did every day
    and now he's alive

    He was cheerful
    most times
    especially when reciting
    new rhymes

    But sometimes I would see him
    in a really sad mood
    So, I'd scrounge up some money
    and buy him some food

    Now, that one act of kindness
    must have melted his pride
    Because as he ate that hot food
    he just sat there and cried

    Now, we would both sit an' rhyme
    until the sun went down
    it was sure lot's of fun
    having another poet aroun'

    But no one else liked him
    'cause he lived in a box
    Because he walked around barefoot
    and had long dirty locks.

    Well, the people complained
    about him and his box
    And some of the children
    would even throw rocks.

    But the final straw came
    when he started feedin' the geese
    The people complained,
    that he was disturbin' the peace
    When the amount of goose droppings
    began to increase
    They picked up the phone
    and they called the police.

    Now, I was standing right there
    when five burly cops came
    And the man looked so sad
    it was such a terrible shame

    They made him gather his things
    They made him fold up his box
    And he let out a sigh
    as he tied back his locks.

    Then they led him away
    but I really must say
    Things were never the same
    since he left on that day

    To me it seemed like a sin
    I never saw him again
    And if I could say how I felt
    I wouldn't know where to begin

    I hoped his future got bright
    but I know the chances were slim
    And I often sat and wondered
    what had happened to him.

    Well, wherever he was,
    I jus' hope he was alright
    I thought of him often
    and I prayed for him at night

    Now, this part's a shame
    and I have no one to blame
    because I never, ever
    asked him his name.
    So when people asked me his name
    I didn't know what to say
    So, I said, he's 'The Man
    from Lone Tree Way'

    Now, I later found out
    he had a really rough life
    He became sad and depressed
    after the death of his wife

    And that is how
    he came to live on the street
    and he spent many nights
    without something to eat

    And that is his story
    I'm sad to say
    A story of how
    he ended up one day
    living in a box
    on Lone Tree Way

    'Though he's been gone a while
    I really miss his warm smile
    And I miss that old box
    and his dirty, long locks
    But now that I'm thinking . . .
    I should've bought him some socks