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Dec 2017
Tattered and torn are my clothes
Unshaven and unclean
Weathered and faded is the sign that I carry
But to many I remain unseen

My only remaining friends
Are the voices in my head
Distorting my concept of reality
Sometimes I wish I were dead


Standing on the corner
Self-worth shattered and broken
Heads turn away in disgust
Their voice of inhumanity
To themselves already spoken

Transient, beggar
Homeless and troll
Just a few names I’ve been given
In truth
I’m just another of humanities
Forgotten lost souls
Mans inhumanity to man
Written by
Thomas King
168
     Angel, Bunny and ---
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