The wind it blows so fucking cold. No money for a bus and his shoes they have holes. He puts it in his hand, the richer man, the money is all he knows. Flashes from a past life, 2 kids and wife, it’s something he does not know. This story has yet to be told, and it’s getting old. This loneliness is all he knows. These people aren’t his friends. They do not mend. Like crabs in a barrel. They take but never give. This live they live is the only thing they know. Hateful world we are the same. Hit for hit. A bastards name. Turn the cheek. We all deny. A bitter man still cries.

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