To this world he is an oaf,
an idiot,
a simpleton.
Towering over the crowd,
his clubbed foot shuffling through the mall,
bottom lip drooping,
maybe with a drip of unaware drool.
His clean, and at one time,
neatly pressed attire
now disheveled, unmatched.
It tells us that someone cares for him,
yet they give him his much needed sense of pride.
He greets you,
and though you do not comprehend a word from his oversized head, you understand perfectly that he is humbled in your presence.
There is a smile hidden on that face though.
Not the blank smile of an imbecile,
but the constant grin of a truly happy man.
A man not of this world,
but of a world void of care and worry.
  His feeble mind was not born with the integrated chip of despair,
or infected by someone else’s insanities,
it was and will be until his death,
filled with loving words,
positive and uplifting prayers,
and nonsensical songs of long ago.
For this man is not alone in this cruel world,
this place of daily criticism.
No,
he has a Mother,
and her kind and loving face will be there in the morning,
and she will be the last voice he hears as she tucks him in at nightfall. A Mother that bore him,
and though she took not an oath,
will be the one with him
when he takes his last breath.  

Happy Mother's Day

*Inspired by "Ox" and his Mother I met today at the Mall