The night had always troubled him the most
No food, no shelter, no alms
The shiver, the chill, the blowing wind
Hugged by just a rug,
His night had to pass.
Days were good to pass by
As he could sneak around
Sometimes begging, sometimes stealing
With people around it was always easy to hide.
To tease them, abuse them
A medium to express his soreness on them
And thus get either the tat for his tit
Or sympathy for his uncontrolled will.
His comparison with animals is
A more common and accepted one.
The nights were always harsh on him
Today’s was no better
Again with no food no shelter
And as the day knocked into his hole,
He had passed into an ever sleepy day.