Man's Tap

A cane that echoes down the lane

Sounding through the gale of an angel song,

Can call the clan with each timed tap.

Holding a glance, lips enlace with a smile,

He carries on, with a slight lean,

His head at an angle, a need for change in his heart.

Hence his challenge to pass on the encage ache,

Not holding on to the hell from all around,

He sets out to clean himself with each passing tap.