Nobody

I don't know words
Or what they mean
Or they mean nothing
To you
Its garbage for one
Shoddy to another
And my tears
They are nothing
But a whim
Of some gland
And yet I write and I cry
For I was born for that
To sob and utter
Words
That no one can understand
There are foul smelling men
Who sleep on the street
You barely see
As you drive past
In your new cars
There are small joys
And smiles you
Have never known
As someone
Finds a treasure
In a discarded cloth
Or a kind look
That stole from your eye
As you spoke
To someone to kill time
One day my eyes would burn
With my fingers that write
In the pyre that time will light
And you must clap
With joy that you have fewer
Words now to read
And a face less to see
As you move on
Up the ladder
Past those who must forever sleep
On the wayside
Or underneath
A shroud of ashes and mud