7 July 2012
A kind old man Came yesterday Gave me water But walked away
I stared at him As he turned his heel No thanks I spoke How must he feel?
See I can't talk Been here too long Turned to the streets Where I belong.
I've no bed Just a blanket to hold But it's ok. I'm growing old.
Been here too long No bed, just a box. Just a strange old one That the houses forgot
Streets • Opuss № I