Professor Poem by Charles Hice

professor
professor
They called him the professor on the street this man was homeless but he used to work as a teacher in a university some say he left to become someone some say he used to work as a lawyer and he was famous and he left the profession to be someone he was a worker in the sheriffs office they told me he was a snitch and got kicked off of the force to be someone perhaps he was a student and ran out of money on the lawn no ticket to the game he he left it all to be someone and homeless he became a maker of boxes in the rain this man was smart he learned to fold the pieces that he finds and he even carrys some in his pocket and trys very hard to spend them he thinks it is money but the people at the counter never think its funny or they never even help him anyway they always tell him just to go away today and take that off the counter keep it with you he picks up every dollar in his mind its a fortune he smiles around the room and says he has a lot of this to spend he folds it and he refolds it all again and he smiles he is always happy to be free and homeless on the street he lives in doorways and folds his boxes and he palces boxes all around his head and sides and feet to stop the rain he is always dry he never gets wet or high he is mental and strong drink is not needed for this gentle feeble mind they called him the professor on the street once he was a friend of mine in time
Charlax
professor