Nobody's Friend Poem by Stephen Holland

Nobody notices nobody cares
Look at the state of the clothes that he wears
His only home is the bench in the park
His one friend the bottle comforts him in the dark
The police show no interest as they move him along
Where in the past did your life turn so wrong?
Look at the state of the clothes that he wears
Nobody notices, nobody cares

Maybe sometimes, a change in fortune
Might bring him food and shelter in a hostelry room
But these days though welcome are all too rare
For most of the time there just is nobody there
A newspaper blanket on a pillow of stone
Is all that he ever has all that he owns
Ask yourself then just how it is
A man who is someone could be subject to this

Where he comes from nobody can tell
And where he goes to, well he just might a well
Be dead, for no-one would miss him at all
Now his life is fading, he tries to recall
His wife his friends his children
The family next door
All killed in an instance from a bomb in the war
And now his own life has come to an end
He'll die without memorial he's nobody's friend