Home   Poetry   <My Lady   Tea Shoppe>

The Tramp

The old man's coat is filthy and worn
His shoes and trousers tattered and torn
No longer does he live with pride
Begging for coins just to survive

Darkness descends, it's cold and damp
No-one bothers, he's just an old tramp
His bed he finds wherever he can
This poor and lonely dejected old man