The other day I was driving to the mall.  In order to get there I had to drive through a less desirable section of town (to use a euphemism).  As I was waiting at a red light, two of the local residents crossed the street in front of me.  Both were unkempt, unshaven and wore torn clothes that looked like they had not been in a washer for some time.  You could tell by their walk that they didn't have coffee for breakfast but rather something much stronger.

Then the light turned green and I was on my way.  But I couldn't get those two men out of my mind.  It would have been easy to simply dismiss them as two drunken bums and let it go at that.  But then again, when my mind gets hold of a thought, it rarely lets go.  So I wondered how they got from there to here, from a young child in grade school to the individuals they are today.  While many of the street people today are suffering from mental illness and are left to their own devices, it seemed apparent that drugs and/or alcohol also plays a major role in these people's lives.  But that begs the question of what got them from an innocent child to a life of drugs and alcohol.

I wondered what their home life was like as they were growing up.  Was there a loving and nurturing parent or parents or had the child's parent(s) passed through the same doorway long before they were born? Was it peers that led them down the path that resulted in the life they were now living?  If so, why didn't their parent(s) take control of the situation and stop that behavior in its tracks?  What were they like in school?  Was there a brilliant mind or a mediocre one that was wasted?  Were they happy-go-lucky souls or introspective, brooding children?  So many questions, so few answers.

Maybe only those who are living that life know the answers to those questions, or maybe not even they know.  Minds often rearrange facts to suit self.  That or the ravages of drugs and alcohol write over the truth with a story that justifies one's existence.  Whatever the case, they are lost souls, forever travelling down a road that someday will run out at a dead end.

That led me to wonder who and how many of those I knew back in my early school days are now living a similar life.  How many that I lost track of are dressed similarly and living similarly.  Would I be surprised if I knew who they were?  Might, in fact, one or more of them be living in that area I drove through.

All that led me to write another of my so called poems.  It is:

Do I know you?

Who are you?

   It is really you?

Where is the person I use to know?

Where is the sparkle you had in your eyes?

    Where is the smile that lit up a room?

Where did that you go?

Why are you here?

   Why did you change?

How is life treating you?

I miss the old you.

   I miss the way you used to be.

I miss what we had.

Can you change?

   Can you be what you used to be?

Or are you gone forever?

I am sad, old friend.