its just another day - poem

theres a man on a bench,
and hes holding a wrench,
i asked him what for,
but he was not so sure.
but he wouldnt let go,
not even to show, 
so we went for a walk,
and we started to talk.
he once had a wife,                
and a very nice life.
two kids and a dog,
a mouse and a frog.
but he left for another,
when she slept with his brother.
she left with it all,
and she made him feel small.
so he tried to find love,
with the man up above.
to give him some where,
to put all his care.
i loved meeting him,
so i went out on a limb,
i asked him his name,        
and if i wouldnt have came,
would he still have walked?
would he still have talked?
i wanted to know why,
who was this wrench guy?
but instead im sitting here,
always unclear,
on the other side of the street,
destined to never meet,
so i made up a tale,
about the man who sits stale,   
im looking from my bench,
at the man with the wrench,
unsure what to say,
because its just another day.