He pushed his trolley around the mall
It was full, a good nights haul
Aluminum cans of every kind
Each one he crushed, another find!
Off to the merchant, scrap to sell
Its Friday night he did do well
Beer cans cast aside
By drunken youths that have no pride
$20 he'll eat well today
$10 for a bed he'll pay
Vincent St Paul's, the Sally shop
The clothing bin, is the next stop
He sits in the mall, there's people there
They just walk past, none of them care
Its warm, its dry its a place to go!
The doors will be locked soon! back in the snow!
A flagon of wine in a brown paper bag
The embankment tonight a bed he will flag
His army greatcoat with its collar turned up
He raised the bottle and takes a sup
Glue sniffers arrive, high on drugs
Yesterdays children, are today's thugs
They beat the old man an stole his grog
And left him bleeding like a dog
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bob, this poem illustrates your compassion well, it's too easy to cast aside the vagrants of this world, call them names, but most forget that they are human too. Well written by a kindly man. Your friend the other Bob