Dear Old Man,

Dear old man, parked constantly besides the road,
Calling dirty steel and cold ceramic
The place of your personal abode.

Dear old man, with smelly rags torn wide,
Nearly immobile, dragging yourself around,
From poor weather nowhere to hide.

Dear old man, forced to beg and plead from all that is near,
Hopes of jingling change and even dollars
Dashed by the public’s mean glare.

Dear old man, I do wonder what led you astray,
As I lead myself from the scene, carrying selfish thoughts
Of hopes that I do not end up like you one day.