The road silent and somnolent
With a tranquil speech of its own
The only thuds of weary steps tapping
Down the narrow impoverished street
The dull street lamp half-yawns
And the old park bench shivers
A loaf of yesterday’s bread in his hand
A bottle of ale already half-empty
A disinterested smile he flicked
And walked towards his cottage
# The tattered unlocked cottage
Where broken dreams and shattered hopes
Scatter here and there all around #
Aint no wood to kindle the hearth
Aint no stove to cook supper
Aint no company to cherish him
A loathsome life that he leads
Shunned away from everyone
