Old beggar man,
Old hobo,
With the street-bum
Eyes,
you lie in the rain
with the rats & flies
Old beggar man,
Old hobo,
Sitting on the
Floor,
Conversing with
the wall
& the tumble down door,
Old beggar man,
Old hobo,
With the matted
gray hair,
They dragged
You Screaming
To a world
Laid bare.
Old beggar man,
Old hobo,
With the ruby port
Breath,
You smell of war
And you reek of death.
-Terry Young
