Lack Of Service Poem by James Meaney

--Needs More work on Rhythmic flow

He never wears his shoes
and he never wears his shirt,
why hasn't he died from lack of service?
He never try's it new
but brings in the old
drinking his cold mornin' brew
and without a car but which he sold
triggering karma
he's hit by bad luck
Down on his luck
Bump after bump
why hasn't he died from lack of service?
Still no worries cause
He's a smiley man
tells people he loves them
And loves life without a plan
Soup for mornin' and
at night a dream
Rolling in discomfort
for tonight he slept on nothing
why hasn't he died from lack of service?
worn on the outside
warm on the in
blue eyes, greased hair
and laughs just for the laughin'
People throw change
he throws back thanks
kickin' it easy on streets
why hasn't he died from lack of service?
The rain starts Drummin'
and the light, gone runnin'
Alley corner, coming down with somthin'
A flu and he's shivering non stops
Stone cold beat box
in his chest, no rest
for the man with zero
why hasn't he died from lack of service?
The Sun hit's dawn and everything
iss dried up, drawn, and gone
the birds have come out
beat hummin that song
quiet has stricken the birds
sirens blaze, warning whats wrong

...A man; dead from lack of service