Forbidden Fruit
I wrote this on my Blackberry while riding the train into working listening to Nina Simone's song "Forbidden Fruit" sitting across from a homeless man.
Nina sings as I dream of a world where he doesn't exists.
I avoid him at all cost. It cost pennies to satisfy his thirst for more.
For change.
For comfort.
For his soul to feel equal.
He's the worlds forbidden fruit.
He was born.
Untainted and pure.
Picked poked at by wandering worldly eyes and he became bruised.
Tainted.
Untouchable.
Unreachable.
Forbidden.
His once tough skin's now old and fragile.
The world refuses to help and I look away.
But he sits tall as if the obvious does not exists.
His spoiled odor reeks through a broken soul from a heart that has died and decomposed.
He sits tall and proud amongst the other freshly maintained fruit.
He has fallen off the edge of this world and been placed back on society's shelf as if he were good enough to only look past, pick over, but never touch.
Parents pull their children's wandering inquisitive arms away and struggle to keep their my eyes off.
And one day, when his appearance can be ignored no more, his odor cannot be contained, his body can no longer give; he will give up and we will pluck his body off society's shelf.
Forgotten.
Never missed.
Forbidden Fruit
Do remember...
Nina sings as I dream of a world where he doesn't exists.
I avoid him at all cost. It cost pennies to satisfy his thirst for more.
For change.
For comfort.
For his soul to feel equal.
He's the worlds forbidden fruit.
He was born.
Untainted and pure.
Picked poked at by wandering worldly eyes and he became bruised.
Tainted.
Untouchable.
Unreachable.
Forbidden.
His once tough skin's now old and fragile.
The world refuses to help and I look away.
But he sits tall as if the obvious does not exists.
His spoiled odor reeks through a broken soul from a heart that has died and decomposed.
He sits tall and proud amongst the other freshly maintained fruit.
He has fallen off the edge of this world and been placed back on society's shelf as if he were good enough to only look past, pick over, but never touch.
Parents pull their children's wandering inquisitive arms away and struggle to keep their my eyes off.
And one day, when his appearance can be ignored no more, his odor cannot be contained, his body can no longer give; he will give up and we will pluck his body off society's shelf.
Forgotten.
Never missed.
Forbidden Fruit
Do remember...
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