Cardboard Box.

I lived in a cardboard box from April to December,

No work, No money, No food, Ah how I well remember.

I wandered the busy streets looking for a job or two,

How People looked and disdained we the miserable few.

I washed dishes, in a busy restaurant it was worth a meal,

No one cared or asked but it was forbidden you know to steal.

When my work was done I washed and shaved my face,

I could not press my tattered suit it was really a disgrace.

I walked back to my box with newspapers that I had found,

It was a good insulation you know on that hard cold ground.

I was not alone others were quite near to me,

We all had a box it was the best we could do you see.

Many or all were hungry and some suffered from the cold.

We were quite well mixed, some young and some really old.

How we looked forward to the Salvation Army’s hot soup,

It somehow kept us upright no human should have to stoop.

Then there came the day when we given some clothes,

A charitable organisation gave that what others had disposed.

On a cold December’s morning my luck suddenly changed,

They admitted me into hospital; they thought that I was disarranged.

I was given a nice warm bed and a really good slap up feed,

A Lady asked me about my circumstances and what I would need.

I said, “I wanted a job any work would do, and of course a room,”

A whole week they kept me and watched me push a broom.

Then along came a man dressed in a suit of clothes (Quite New).

Come along with me he said and I will see what I can do.

I have never been out of work since and I have always worked hard.

Now I am retired and lead the life of a Bard.

© Bernard Shaw