Right Behind You

I sleep behind you, resting my head and being silent your entire night. Yet, uninvited, I suffer guilt and wonder if there ever be a chance for you to notice me. I walk around the mall, see you every day, feeding the birds sitting pretty on a bench at Pershing's Square. It helps me dream about the way it could have been? If for a fleeting moment you could rest your eyes (most beautiful of all) in my direction I would be, a happy man. But I am homeless, have not shaved nor do I smell the way I used to. I thank my God that he allows me to admire and adore the great perfection that is you. And I will sleep a dozen winks behind you, dear. You will not see nor feel that I am ever there. But I, I surely will.