Gone

He stared at the sign on the door that read "Gone"

Through the window he spied his old seat

Scratched at the back of his neck like he does

And wondered, "Now where will I eat?"

Every morning for years he'd nursed his black coffee

And leisurely picked at his plate

Devoured the paper, heard all the latest

They knew to expect him by eight

He looked up and down the small street for a moment

The storefronts sat shuttered and locked

Turned up his collar, his hands in his pockets

And hungrily trod down the block

Oh, he'd heard of that new place, the one with the lights

And a window that served folks in cars

Pushed through the doorway hoping this might be where

Some of the regulars are

Now they're gone from the place where they always had been

Come with the sunrise and gone with the wind

Like a faded old photo or forgotten song

They were just here, now they're gone

He picked up a tray, took his place in the line

The menu hung bright on the wall

The food wrapped in paper was foreign and strange

Didn't look like a breakfast at all

He sat down in a plastic chair, stared at the table

And silently offered his grace

Tugged at the cellophane holding his fork

This man with no name and no place

Now he's gone like the place where he always had been

Come with the sunrise and gone with the wind

Like a faded old photo or forgotten song

You thought you'd remember for all your life long

There's no one and no place you feel you belong

You were just here, now you're gone

He stared at the sign on the door that read "Gone"