A Man Without A Title Poem by Patrick Jomo

Meek and polite,
He adorns himself in simple grace
He wakes up early morning to toil,
Like a foil;
To bring a picture of poverty to the world
He's honest in his dealings,
And takes without question what God provides
He clings to his values,
As though they were his source of livelihood
To him, being good is taking what's rightfully yours

Like a preacher, he uses his deeds as an amplifier to propel his message to the society
Giving to the needy, he takes not what he doesn't need
His quest is unmatched,
To see a fair world:
With hopes relived,
And morals revived
A world where wealth is defined by the contents of the heart,
As opposed to accumulation
Where one's suffering is felt by another,
And love is seen in deeds

In his own little way he tries,
Albeit with little effect
His efforts gather like drops of water,
Forming pools on the surface
He's patient to wait,
And eager to see fruits sprout from his deeds

But he's distraught:
He has no title to his name!
He's an ordinary man
With little education
His attempts are met with contempts,
And questions abound as to where he got this or that.
They'd brush away his thoughts as devoid of class,
Notwithstanding their weight.
He'd occasionally be asked, 'Who are you? '.
Or still, 'What's your profession? '
Before they'd get to listen to him,

Cuz...

He's a man without a title.