The man on the street..

I met a man yday,
Looking dirty , soiled and worn.
Walking on the street ,
Escaping the storm.
face looking aghast,
eyes set to mourn.
He had a question for me,
“from my seeds of peace
Why thorns have grown?”
I stared at his face
Saw a smile forlorn,
I used to be God, he said,
But that was before man was born ….

Wrote this a few years back..recently reminded of it while in conversation with a friend..Thought would share..