My inheritance,
a hobo tramping through my head
my eyes are red
my heart is calm
he means no harm to me
there is no malice
no challenge I see,just
the hobo
making tracks
shunted aside
sleeping in sacks
railroaded,loaded and
fired
and
tired
see how he bends as his legs lend a hand
to the band round his chest
best before end
trending now?
somehow I
doubt it.