not the fortunate son
Location
Why doesn't anybody care,
as they pass him in the street
with his empty, hollow stare?
A shell of a man,
nothing left inside,
I wonder if a light once burned,
behind those vacant eyes,
The rain has smeared the letters
on his tiny cardboard sign,
But, no words are needed
to convey what's on his mind
Can you spare some change,
maybe a dollar or two....
Just tryin' to eat,
and maybe get a cheap bottle of booze...
You have no idea,
how it makes me feel,
to have to beg you for a dollar bill
They're bothered by him,
the filthy bum,
Why should they have to see this vagrant scum,
Nobody looks in his eyes,
no one asks his name,
Just a homeless drunk,
aren't they all the same?
But, you don't know where he's been,
don't know what he's done,
Where do you think he lost his legs?
He's not the fortunate son,
Returned home broken,
an outcast of our land,
You see him as an eye sore,
I see him as a man