Ballad of Uplifting Meal

Sweet Old Guy

I saw the kind old soul again
At the local church dinner tonight
Served me green beans
To go with pork loin and mashed potatoes
A light gravy mountaintop just right

He just smiled and laughed
Content and pleased with himself
Happy and living for the moment
60 or 70, his eyes of pearly blue swells

Snapped a candid shot
From an angle off to the side
While he served some poor citizens
He did not notice it
Because I was a little shy

Then he took a seat
Among his little group of friends
Mr. Volunteer
Enjoying his humble meal
Talking seemingly to no end

We all have a story to tell
Everyone in their private lives
We all head home at night
The world through different eyes

They’ll all be shutting doors
Fixing to the tube
Getting in some snores
Not much else to do

And back to the simple man
He’ll also be home tonight
Most likely has a wife
Happily or not
I do not know, I’m sure that’s right
But it seems to me
He’s pretty darn content
Living this simple, homespun life
Mr. Volunteer
Like a saint decked in white

We go our separate ways
Me the young and eager
He the elderly and settled
I want to break free
From this small town prison shell
While I’m sure he’s got his mind set on heaven
And I’ve got my heart set on breaking free
Anywhere in my local circle, two different people,
Two different views on fate and destiny

Writing 201: Day 7 – Neighborhood, Ballad, Assonance

Ballad of Selma’s Hero

the voice of the trodden,
he turned the world around
the voice of the trodden,
burned segregation
to the ground;

I say to you, Mr. King,
you are a true icon to me
I say to you, Mr. King,
your legacy lives on for eternity;

he had a dream
that the world would
come together:
not just fifty shades
of black and white,
but every thread of
the proverbial

he had a dream
that we all could
sit down together
could go to work
together peacefully;
could ride the bus
together peacefully;
could cross the street
together peacefully;

he had a dream
that our votes belonged
in the same box;
our education
in the same box;
our athletic talents
in the same box;
our political agenda
in the same box;

realize what Mr. King did,
shattered years of
racial hatred;
broke down the
proverbial Berlin Wall,
made us realize
we were all human, the
same after all

and now we have
a monument to
remember him;
and now we have
a way to pay our
respects to him;
and now we have
his powerful words
persevered in our history;
and now we have
his message being
heard universally

but this does not
change the fact
that his dream is still
spit on;
this does not
change the fact
that still a great many
have the utter most hate on;

but I’ll keep the ballad
of Selma’s dear hero
a happy soulful one for now;
I’ll keep the ballad
of Martin Luther King, Jr.
my grand respect for
his dream come true,
a happy tribute for now