The Most Humble Man on Earth
I’m the most humble man on earth.
Of all men stripped of noble birth
And left to wander the streets at night,
With only a forsaken birth right,
I am the most humble.
I am more holy than a pious priest
Who wages wars with spiritual beasts,
And says his prayers at night before bed,
And strikes his breast, and bows his head,
For he lacks my great humility,
For I am the most humble.
I am mightier than the greatest king,
President, sultan, or other such thing,
Who leads his country from sin and vice,
Hearing whispers of others’ advice,
And shows the advisor as the man
Who thought up that awesome saving plan;
Such great men are mere pish-pash,
Since I am much more humble.
I am more beautiful than the moon,
Reflected near in a child’s spoon.
For the moon steals from the sun
And from theft his light becomes
The source for light in dark night,
And takes the sun’s greater might
And shoves it in his burning face.
Such things cause my heart to race,
For I know I’m more humble.
So for all those whose hearts descend,
Frowning because I am so grand,
Rest assured when you see me pass,
That you are only next to last,
And that you have been greatly blest
And can tonight in your bed rest,
Because you saw my humble face,
That which God could not replace,
That face of incredible birth,
Of the most humble man on earth.
Matthew B. Rose
