an old house sits by the corner
full of men anytime of the hour
especially when winter comes
early morning their number swells
early evening or noon time as well
they roam around like their home
sitting, talking, some are sleeping
on the corners, well dress refugees
they ain't sick, they're probably stronger
than you are, just not into anything
one day one of them stop me for coffee
i told him i buy him but he wants money
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem