They tell him to keep mopping the floor,
because he’s alone.
He, without complaint, the sudsy water pours,
for he is home.
Security personnel ask when he will leave,
and tell him to catch some rest.
But, he’s been only a few weeks without sleep;
And, the issue- him -hasn’t pressed.

The man is genuine- a river of sincerity.
The warm summer rain was a cause of his charity.

He’d call her in his youth,
to warn her of delay.
With the strobe slow-motion,
He’d hold her gaze.
He’d dance his heart out,
focused on pleasant futures.
Completely without doubt,
He’d pour his conflicts through her.

He no longer cares for pride nor wealth.
He feels no purpose to pursue the pretty girls.
The man mopping the floor must first conquer himself,
before he can overcome the world.