Penny-less.
Lick it up off Picasso's postcards.
Share this time...

What little we have.
The dance of the deprived,
worshipping the derelict.

Trash.

Call us what you want.
This trash to you is used, *****, and degraded.
A has been.

To us, you are nothing...
Will be nothing.
Until you've handled us,
you'll never know.

You stare with star-struck eyes.
Why, yes
we are those fallen few.

We chose.
No,
life chose us.
Us
to be without.

We're the entitled greats who go without.
All you can do is sneer,
with your veneered smiles smeared.

Go ahead.
You envy us.
I see your as green as the notes in your pocket,
as bitter as the coffee in your cup.