The weary hobo grins at the past

 

Although it wilted much too fast

His lips upturned he embraces the curve

Of life and the universe

 

Somehow he owns nothing but luck

 

And much of it is nothing much

Somehow he owns nothing but grins

And worn out whims

 

Torn, dulled shoes

Yet he reveals a smirk with nothing to lose

The weary hobo smiles to the face of the future

 

Though it promises nothing brighter

Though nightly sun cries as moon hides her

Because life gives way to the universe

 

And eventually the weariness

Will fade to darkness