Daryl Cecile

No House, No Money

Down the street on a cold, windy night.
So creepy, so silent so dark with no light.
Lonely and scared withought a friend.
The night so long, no money to rent.

Through the garden, around the pub.
No house, no money, not enough for a tub.
As mendicants lay behind the barrel.
so far yet so close, you hear Christmas carols.

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