He coughed in the corner,
With a mangled leg.
He smirked under stars,
With a bowl pocked rice.
They’d spit, they’d scoff,
With their children in tow.
I’d drop change,
With lint left a pocket.
But he’d buy beer knowing –
All’d be well tonight.
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 9:40 PM UTC
He coughed in the corner,
With a mangled leg.
He smirked under stars,
With a bowl pocked rice.
They’d spit, they’d scoff,
With their children in tow.
I’d drop change,
With lint left a pocket.
But he’d buy beer knowing –
All’d be well tonight.
There's a new pauper on the bridge come the walk to work - so the story of the poor continues.
