The Man in the Doorway

The man in the doorway doesn’t care about your job

He doesn’t care about your degrees or followers

The man in the doorway

doesn’t care how many books you’ve read

sexual conquests you've accumulated

or fancy restaurants you’ve been to

The man in the doorway

couldn’t be less impressed by your resume

Or the expensive watch you were given as a bonus

The man in the doorway

cares about his morning coffee

His pigeons

And his ailing wife Maria

He cares about his lemon tree

And his grandchildren

who visit for dinner on Sunday nights

He cares about his little dog by the chair in the doorway

And the memories of people he once knew and loved

Mostly

The man in the doorway

cares about your character

He’s lived long enough to know all things are in flux

Yet change is enduring

He’s seen people rise and fall

humanity's beauty and ugliness

and in his simple way

he knows much of life's a great picture show

A juggling act

The man in the doorway

cares about the good in the world

And from his little doorway

He tries to catch your eye

Hoping there’s still some good left in it