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Hobo

Hobo of the night
Drinking your 'Lightning White'
Avoiding park bench frostbite.
Long finished crying
-Diminished
And slowly dying
Within his shell
What special hell
- A drunken song can tell.
Look into his eyes
Take your heart out of disguise
And realise
It could be you.
Strangers
Yet we walk the same road
- We do.
Hobo plays the blues at dusk
Pouring his heart
Outside the Mart.
Self medication
Is his need to busk
Keeps him comfortably numb
Though empty as a drum.
The boozing
- Is soothing a savaged heart
As demons stand at his gate
Such a cruel lady is fate.
Go on, look into his soul
For a life that someone stole.
Society, devoid of a clue
But we all walk the same road
- We do.

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