Lost

He wanders down the street with three

jackets on his back. He pushes a rusted 

shopping cart overflowing with various 

things. He is not a trash man, he is only

a collector of the lost and unloved.

He sleeps in the alleyways and waits

until the neighborhood has fallen asleep.

In the bleak of the night he sifts through

the discarded, the things once wanted,

but have now lost their value in society. 

He finds pieces of himself in every object

that the world no longer pays attention to.

In the rush of daylight he watches the people

who hop from one place to another, he sees

everything and everyone in everywhere

but they aren’t able to return the favor. 

He sits and watches the sunset and wonders

“Am I truly the one that has lost sight of life?”