Sunday, March 21, 2010


On a silent and parky night last week

He sat alone across the roadside

His one hand inside the blanket

And to one his dog was tied

His coat was thin and torn

His pant had a few holes

He wished for a pair of shoes

That had no paper soles

He played his guitar that night

But all with a sombre ring

His voice longed for a shelter

And made my heart cry and lose its zing

Looking back through the years

When even he had a home

He knew his life took a turn

The day he had left for Rome

He stood up to carry his haversack

With his blanket he wrapped up the dog

Counting the penny in his pocket

He rambled through the dense fog

Tomorrow he hopes to see another day

To walk again through these streets

He will still play the guitar, he vows

Until the snow falls gently and on his shoulder it meets