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


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