Dirty Old Man

I see him on the streets
Of a busy world
Eyeing every wedge and stiletto
Of the smooth and even-toned
Who ignore his stares.

He waits patiently
For someone to pass by him
So he could taste a chance
To show he was innocent,
Helpless, but eager.

"Don’t you touch me"
Is what he gets
From a woman who gets out
Of the beauty shop
"Don’t even look at me".

So he sits again
And keeps himself
From dreaming of fantasies
To satisfy his inner self
Because he could never.

But no
The sweetness of the scent
From the lady in red
It burns his guts -
He has to fulfill.

Murder, the next day.
Because he had to do
What he couldn’t do
For what seemed like a lifetime
Of loneliness.

"What happened here?"
Started the investigation.
"I don’t know sir, I must have pushed hard,
He fell on the ground,
Then blood scattered around."

It wasn’t even on the papers
Or in the primetime news
When the dirty old man finally was in peace -
The old beggar in Pine Street
Who just wanted donuts to eat.