The Real World

I saw a wino in the street  
Stained and stinking of vomit and urine  
His hair knotted and streaked with grit
And something else unknowable  
I looked away quickly but still he caught my glance  
And his eyes were as red as blood  
And filled with pain  
An agony as deep as his bones  
I leaned over and passed him twenty bucks  
Though I could guess where it would be spent  
I asked him to please get a bite to eat  
And he laughed  
His voice as gritty as his hair  
His eyes though didn't share in the laughter  
He told me that he preferred to see the world  
Through the bottom of a glass  
Since it didn't seem as nasty that way  
And my heart broke for that broken man  
Tears formed in my eyes  
And when I looked at him once again  
He was crying as well  
It's a painful thing to live this life in this world  
We all bear it in different ways  
But I think that maybe he had seen  
The real world  
And it had been too much for him to handle  
I went to my home  
Comfortable and warm  
And poured a large tumbler of scotch  
I raised my silent toast to the man  
And drank to deaden the memory