- someone I met on the streets... five years after the both of us had been on the streets, we crossed paths again on the city bus one day... he explained that in those years, he had run away from his family while in a psychotic episode (which led him on a drugs bender), and he disappeared for 2 years... his father never gave up looking for him... he looked very well and he said his life was back in order... I have always been very fond of Louis... here's about when we met and our experience in those days... 

It was a quiet evening.  No one was

Making a spectacle of themselves

From being too hard up wasted,

And no break-up dramas either on

The stairs by the Parc de l'artillerie,

The usual spot where the kids were.

She was sitting there, on her own,

Quietly thinking and observing,

When suddenly, from the other

Direction of where she was looking,

This guy sat right by her, his leg and

Side touching hers.  He leaned in,

And hand extended, said the following:

"Hi.  My name is Louis.  Is there any

Part of your past history that you

Would like to relate to me?", with the

Most earnest expression on his face.

Startled, looking in the deepest blue eyes,

She smiled, shook his hand, and told

Him her name while replying that she

Really couldn't see what he could find

Interesting about the parts of her history.

His eyes brightened, his face gleamed,

And he gave her the most beautiful smile.

All the while, she was silently reflecting

To herself about the possible reasons

Why this obviously French-speaking guy

Engaged in conversation in English first.

It didn't make much sense, but their

Conversation was pleasantly amusing.

They'd never seen one another before then,

And for her part, Louis' entrance was memorable,

No doubt about it, but it's him that was the most.

What an unforgettable character!  What a mind!

They must have carried on talking for at least 4hrs.

From that night, they'd cross paths again and again.

It's with time, and from one time to the next,

That she'd find him in many different states.

This made her realize that he was a guy with a

Lot of troubles, perhaps too big for him to handle, 

All of which were affecting his ability to live

As expected in an unforgiving societal structure.

Sometimes, she'd find him searching through the

Blades of grass at the top of the Portes St-Jean,

On all fours, thoroughly moving aside each blade

To have a closer look at the ground.  He'd do it

For hours.  The first time she saw him do that,

She naturally asked him what he was looking for.

Again, those deep blue eyes looking into hers,

He'd say:  "Sometimes, people drop their drugs

Here.  And sometimes, I'm really lucky to find

Them.  And now I really need to find some!"

He looked so desperate, it broke her heart.

There was nothing she could do to distract him.

Sometimes, she'd find him in a dire state

Of uncleanliness, obviously from having

Been out on the streets for a very long time.

In the middle of winter, his fingernails and

Hands black, in evident need of a wash.

Still, he was always his smiling and gentle self.

Other times, she'd find him completely off

His face, in his own little world, not making

Much sense.  The contrast of the person she

Met that night, and the progression of his

Decline in the months, alarmed her to no end.

She'd ask if she could help, and he'd ask why?

This went on a couple years.  Every time they'd

Cross paths, she'd stop to have a chat with him,

Whatever state he happened to be at the time.

Her heart went out to him with much affection,

'Cause he was clearly a remarkably smart guy,

Aside being a charming and endearing soul.

To this day, she thinks about him,

Hoping he's well and happy now.