Begging on the street,

Knowing the one you want you will never meet,

Out there somewhere she is,

But from this place in hell, to meet her will be a feat…

Passed over and by so many, only one fits your needs,

You hide from life, sleeping amongst the weeds,

Your fantasies are your only life,

You wish you could find her and make her your wife…

Clothed in rags,

You do live life out of bags,

Cleanliness of self an errant wish,

Each week you contribute what you can,

Into the churches money dish…

Living on the edge of reality,

You cry out for one person’s hospitality,

They do ignore you, fearful of your mentality,

Killed you are by a passing bus,

But to them you are just another fatality…

            © ed ~ 10/3/05