Crimes

Home sweet home in a cardboard box...not.

When walking down the street at night

Much later than the hour wishes

Much older than the watch permits

A beat up bum takes on the vision of a saint

Alleyways grow narrow by the dumpsters charm

Concrete jungles stand alone unharmed  

Behind the bins the man sleeps in discomfort

Driving rains melt the cardboard box away

His home floats down the gutter in an instant

As intended, downtrodden souls become exposed

There is no hiding behind a beard when old

Society forgives the sin of poverty

They look the other way when in decay

Crimes committed in alleyways are cruel

A bum lays on the sidewalk in the rain

Payment enough for being born

When finished, he too will wash away