Frank E Gibbard Posted October 15, 2011 Share Posted October 15, 2011 In the cold of his box Future to unfold lots More knocks as a state Unkind he's sure to find A pitiful fate alright For man dispossessed And little if any rest On pavements bleak For those who seek A vital drip of sleep Who restless tramp Days drearly damp Then wearily slump In the human dump In this city's heart Close to real wealth Not one bit sharing In worst of health So few really caring Flotsam of the road A people set aside Of no fixed abode Most cannot abide Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Larsen M. Callirhoe Posted October 16, 2011 Share Posted October 16, 2011 hi amigo, how long did it take you to get this to flow the way it does? i like te way this felt on the tip of the tongue hen reading aloud. ty for the read frank victor Quote Larsen M. Callirhoe Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted October 24, 2011 Share Posted October 24, 2011 Not a pretty picture, Frank. This part got me: In the human dump In this city's heart Close to real wealth I'd prefer to be the one doing the slumming. Tony Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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