Tattered Trousers Poem by Dayan Darko

Why he does it, you do not know
Perhaps Tattered Trousers himself has no idea why so
It hurts you, what he's done
But to him it was some fun
He doesn't always do it with a gun
No, it's not always part of the plan
Part of the plan to cause that much harm
But operations sometimes just take that turn.

It might be he tried but can't control
Can't help it when no one's on patrol
It may be needs
That he couldn't obtain
That he couldn't meet
As he didn't make a single gain.

Supposing this one came to your door
To your door, yes your door
Though not as who you know him now as
Would you even wait and bother with an ask
Why at you door Tattered Trousers makes a fuss?

Would you not blow at him
Make him fall to the floor
Leave him there, with not even a patch
Expose him to all, including sun and rain
Not giving a thought to is pain
That a cold, being the least, he could catch?

Then you expect Tattered Trousers
Though now i suiting suit
To let lying leaves lie
And not shuffle them up
To find your glitterings covered
Or your notes bundled

You know, you play your part
And very well at that art
When you showcase your blinks and brings
From where you take and turn, watch and wince
That place you call a mart
And you pass and flaunt in front of Tattered Troussers

He's stiil along the road with you
He goes home, he has one, also like you
Never mind the suiting suit
He doesn' t have to look haggard
For Goodness' sake
He's sane!
But it changes nothing, he's the same.