Troubled Man Poem by Mustafa Marconi

Lost in this cold, cruel word
No where to go
No Love to he found
If only he could understand
Rising before sunrise
Thirsting for a taste
Scrambling, hustling, begging
Running from a past he can't erase
Living in alleys
Living on subways
Living in poverty
Living just day to day
He’s a troubled man
Misunderstood and all alone
No money, no friends
No place to call his own
No reason to succeed
No encouragement to gain
He has his warm and half-filled bottle
Only that can ease his pains