Monday, 18 March 2013

You walk past me as I write

You walk past me as I write
On a cold cold crazy night
In my sleeping bag isn't that right
On your way to a bar tonight

Yet I can't do this with pen in hand
With no money you understand
Even though my life's not planned
And I'm an artist who is dammed

Who lives out upon the street
And needs to beg to make ends meet
Breaking the law which is neat
While looking for that special treat

Until that day I can say
Thank you to those in a crazy way
Who walked past me oh oh yeah
And didn't care hip hip hooray

Yet when I asked some simply laughed
While others did help as they past
So what the heck this poems daft
Yet thank you to those who helped when I asked

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.