He wanders the streets, a taste for food, a thirst for drink,

Cold to the bones, waiting for a warm place to sleep.

Asking for that which comforts his pain,

Pride and self respect are put aside.

A human being, a man with a story,

A beggar today without any glory,

Taking what he wants, no morals or remorse.

Criminal thoughts, a good man not,

Working for nothing, he does not care.

He steals anything, he has no heart,

A thief many times over, a quitter of sorts.

A beggar, a thief, so many differences of course.

Keith Garrett