bum – Wordsmith: At The Forge

By brian francis

Oh his cloths are torn and ragged
And his face is worn and grey
He does not look into your eyes
Instead he turns away

He makes you feel uncomfortable
Just seeing him around
He doesn’t ask for handouts
But he doesn’t turn them down

He once wore ties and leather shoes
And drove a fancy car
He once went home to a child’s arms
And wished upon a star

But everything that comes can go
And everything that lives can die
And every man with happiness
Can soon learn how to cry

He sits there in the summer’s heat
And shivers through the winter’s cold
A shadow of the man he was
Lost deep in despair’s hold

Tag: bum