Friday, 22 February 2013
Poems: Spare Change
Ever ignored a cry for help
From the man who bathes in frost?
A pack of fags, a can of coke
Well they all come at a cost
Alone again he'll sleep tonight
Beneath the winking stars
And you'll walk by, five layers on
To walk one hundred yards
Whistling wind will wander and weave
Between tangled knots in hair
Hands and feet struggle and scream
Tonight's too cold to bare
But to the sound of steps his ears will spring
Human traffic means profit
The shrapnel clinks and clanks and sings
Inside your denim pocket
So when he asks you 'any spare change?'
Why do you say no?
And how does he find the time to smile
As he watches money go?
Ice sleeps on the high street tonight
He'll bed with his new friend
Manners never cost a thing
Good job when you've nothing to spend.
Posted by Adam Bailey at 16:20