Cough, cough, cough,

Cough, cough, cough,

Splutter, splutter, splutter,

Goes some street guy,

In the gutter.

With not one problem,

But a few,

And now there’s nothing,

No one can do.

As he’s ill,

With the cold,

And could die,

So I’m told.

With no family,

For support,

He has to beg,

 Then go to court.

To survive,

From day to day,

To make life easy,

So they say.

This is life now,

Oh for sure,

The rich get richer,

And the poor stay poor.

By Dr Geebers