Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Iambic Hexameter

A man in rags no coat, no tie, no vest, or hat
Now lives on streets in rain, in cold, in snow, no heat
Once rich, his claim a car, a wife, a kid and cash.
He hopes to eat; he waits for soup or digs in trash
His bed a box on bank of river or bench in park
It's gone, the love, the joy, the peace and life is dark.

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