Original Poem

A boy with no possessions,

No home and no food,

Sat in the gutter, his bright expressions,

Mirroring his strange mood

Penniless and of scabbed feet

Stargazing and curious

There he sprawled in the street

For him every breath was joyous

Ladies and gentlemen

Walked by, quite confused

“How is he in this state of Zen?”

The boy answered, quite amused

“There’s a thing called contentment

When you long for nothing

Every day, new pavement

When you belong nowhere

I walk when asked by my two limbs

Eat when my stomach needs

Sleep when giving in to the whims

See where life leads.”

This blissful, monkish life,

Means the boy is worriless

No plummeting finances or meddlesome wife

No concerns about how to dress

Anonymity means no reputation to fret over

And nothing but love to give

A drunkard’s joys whilst sober

After all, isn’t life to live?

Scarcely ten, yet the most wise

And nothing but love to give

Adventure sees no demise

From the land of Bliss he is native