A Place To Sleep
By: Jason
~~~~A PLACE TO SLEEP~~~~
He wanders the street with a bottle in his hand
His dire situation no one seems to understand
The cold wind blowing sends chills up his spine
Every piece of dirty hair twisting like an ancient aged vine
The alcohol in his body is what keeps him warm
He walks through the night praying for it not to storm
Drifts past the buildings looking for a place to sleep
Someplace to lay for the night and silently weep
As he begs for some change the last thing he owned just died
That thing was all he had and that was his pride
~~~~END~~~~
