Laguna Beach

Poem By Justin Gildow

The sun and the early morning have come
They've arrived in this town
This decrepit, decaying kingdom
I wake up from my goodnight sleep
Fully stretched out on a park bench
Using a large light brown coat as a blanket
As well as also wearing hand me down street clothes
My knapsack with everything pertaining to me is under the bench

Some see this time as a golden age
To others, this is their only rightful stage

Some love it in Laguna Beach
Some despise it in Laguna Beach

I'll be back to my so called home later
A new day has begun
I grab my knapsack, sling it over my shoulder, and begin again on this brand new day
I offer a soft wave to the struggling artist
He smiles at me
I know it must be tough for him
But he continues to draw and paint on a daily basis
I wish him the best
Day in and day out
A light wind has blown in from the west

I dropp a quarter in the machine for this morning's newspaper
And it seems the same all the time
The rich keep on getting richer
The poor, like me, keep on going through what seems like dire straits
The rich kids are sucked into themselves
Drunk on alcohol
And dusted to oblivion with cocaine
And living out all their fantasies
Along with their want of angel dust dreams
I can see it in their eyes

Two rich girls, talk amongst themselves on a corner away from me
And I make my way as far as I can away from them

Walking down the many streets and alleys
I pay a visit to the less fortunate
Telling them that someday things will get better for them
I pay a visit to the angels who are good hearted
I pay a visit to the saints who are good natured
I share my bread and tea with all of them

As the sun sets
I walk by the beach
I notice all the vacant bonfires
Then I turn and face the ocean
Watching the waves come in and out
Letting them relax me
Somewhere, out at sea
I hope for some people there's peace and serenity
I say a small wish to the sea
And I hope it finds Mother Nature
As well as reaching the Environmental Minister

As night is coming
I head back to my so called home
On my walk back to the park
It seems the stars have chosen to appear
In them, I know I have nothing to fear
Even when I speak to the sky
Of all the things I hold dear

I'm back home
And the night is here at last
The struggling artist is already asleep
Lost inside his own dreams
I put my bag under my sleeping quarters again
My day today has finally reached its end
In Laguna Beach
In Orange County

I stay up for a few minutes
Taking in and savoring the final few moments
While watching the many cars and trucks roll up and down the highway
I want to think about the future
But I shouldn't
It's too early to think about tomorrow or the next day

So as the night is finally here
I take off my large light brown coat
And use it as a blanket to cover me
My eyes close and I'm lost in deep sleep

Comments about Laguna Beach

I love this poem. You've managed to tell an interesting story with values we should all have. Fantastic 10/10. More people need to read this.

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