Inspired by the song "The Man Who Can't Be Moved" by "The Script"
(cover credit to where it is owed; i do not own the cover picture)
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He sat there still
For all of these years
He has not moved
Nor cried any tears
They say he waits
For a better time
That has no heartbreak,
Pain, nor crime
And so he rests
So silently
Watches the birds
Fly from the tree
He never speaks
He doesn't dare
He knows that no one
Seems to care
He's all alone
That poor, old man
Had his life
Not just began?
He's tied down hard
By invsible chains
While all else moves
He still remains
His cheeks are red
His hair is white
He hasn't tried to
Put up a fight
And in the end
When his eyes close
One boy drops
A single rose
They say that both
Are still there
The sleeping man
With the graying hair
The rose still bright
A crimson red
Even after
The man is dead
It lay there perfect
Untouched, select
No one dared
To object
And now when people
Feel out of place
They look to the rose,
See the man's face.
And for a second,
For a moment, they're free.
They understand him
Completely.
The world isn't perfect-
Neither are we.
What the man waited for was
Destiny.
