They took away his things
All his possessions, his belongings...
The roof above his head,
The duvet on his bed..
Even the rotten food in his bin.
They wanted to leave him - skeleton without a skin
They hung him out to dry
Beat him up until he could not longer cry
Dead man hanging
Soon, vultures will come prying
It's dead in the alleyway
At least until the rats come out to play
Riches to rags, is such a clichee
He a 'beggee' having turned into a beggar
Change used to go from his wallet to another's cup
Now from strangers' hands into his pocket they drop
A tip for the waitress at the nearby diner
Now enough for today's and tomorrow's dinner
There's an auction up in heaven
'A smile for the skeleton?'
'A smile for the skeleton?', they say
Angels, gods and saints...they all look away
As down on the forsaken street
The skeleton, oblivious, rubs his feet.
When the current government took over in Mauritius, they had a bone (<-- get it! the poem's called 'skeleton') to pick with the previous Prime Minister. So they laid an avalanche of charges against him and got him arrested and placed in jail overnight...
Basically my take on "Oh, how the mighty have fallen!"