In the heart of New York City, vibrant and bright,
A displaced soul roams, observing day and night,
Amongst the suit and ties, an unfamiliar terrain.
He roams, an interloper, with stories to explain.
The city’s vast offices, people grind away.
Nearly sixty hours a week, caught in a hectic fray.
But the homeless man, deemed a deadbeat by some.
Finding relief is simplicity, where peace has begun.
With eyes of keen perception, he notices the grind.
The unending pursuit of success, illusory and unkind.
However, he is not defined by possessions or wealth.
For in his vagabond stride, he discovers true stealth.
The people, consumed in their pursuits of gain.
Hastening like ants, constantly stuck in the same lane.
But the homeless man finds liberty in the streets.
No afflictions to carry, no predefined feats.
He does not seek approval or material worth,
Unconfined by society’s chains, he realizes his mirth.
Through barren halls and crowded city squares.
He discovers the wisdom that floats in the air.
Finding inner calm without a label or claim,
He encounters serenity, untouched by worldly fame,
Trough ragged clothes and worn-out shoes,
He unveils nature's truth, never to lose.
For in the plainest of moments, a bird’s gentle flight,
Or the whispering wind, embracing the city’s height.
He finds his nourishment, his meals of no cost.
No need for money, as his heart is never lost.
In the midst of the chaos, his mind is at peace,
A refuge within, where worries cease,
He bears no judgment, no labels or scorn,
Insightful, as all souls are connected, from dusk until dawn.
In the heart of New York, a lesson is unfurled,
That true riches reside beyond the material world,
With a warm smile and and compassionate grace,
The homeless man finds his rightful place.