18 July 2012
I find my home out on the street. All sorts of people that I meet, I find my home amongst the trash... Teabags, apple cores, all in my stash, I keep it down, it's quite a feat.
I get my water from the drains, It's dirty but I figure it's all the same. Once in a while I'm thrown a penny, I've gathered a few, but I've not got many... I keep my head through the storms and rain
Is it cheating, to sit and beg? Or shall I starve on the streets instead, I scavenge through what I can find As I ignore what courses through my mind I wish I could find an inside bed.
Scavenger • Opuss № I