Starving Poet
Exhaust coughs it’s way out
nastily choking fans
and on lookers
as by passing supporters
wail on horns
My hands ache from the cold,
it starts snowing
people coming
people leaving
and there’s two dollars in my hat
The smell of java fills my nose
I continue spouting
words I wrote
some people looked confused
still change is being tossed
It’s almost midnight and I wonder
why these strangers are still here
some are sitting now
on the side walk
completely content
I’ll go back to the alley soon
and these strangers will
all go to a comfy home
my friends will have the barrel ready
to cook some meat tonight
Tomorrow is just another day
I think I’ll
get some coffee
and maybe there’ll be
enough change to go around...
2007-10-30
06:34:58
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➔ Poetry