Heart Of The Matter
On The Streets
I looked at the man on the pavement,
Bedraggled and worn at the seam,
He lives his life out in a bottle,
And he just can't recall where he's been.
I wonder how he came to be there,
With a dog on a rope as his friend,
And begging for food on the street now,
The dog, seeming quite unconcerned.
What dastardly blow has life dealt him?
Did he once have a home and a wife?
I'm sure he must have a reason,
For choosing existence,
Not life.
The crowds pass him by as he sits there,
Avoiding, the look on his face,
Turn their eyes from the sight he's presenting,
And muttering “it's a disgrace”.
They don't know, why he gave up on living,
And in truth, he just can't recall,
He just loses himself in the bottle,
But at times, he remembers it all.
Linda Harnett, ©2004
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On The Streets
On The Streets
