The Down and Out
As he awakes to greet the dawn
On his park bench amongst the dew
The Times newspaper he has used for a blanket
The one read by the chosen few
As he stretches out his arthritic arms
And moves his arthritic legs
His eyes now staring up at the rising Sun
As he drinks from his cup, now full of dregs
He greets the day with his usual smile
Though the garden he surveys is owned by the city
As people pass him by and tut
He resents their look of pity
I may be a wanderer he thinks to himself
But self respect I have so much
I need no one’s indulgent stupid remarks
I do not need societies crutch
As he makes his way to who knows where
Each and every day
Spending his days on the road and free
Searching for food along the way
Every dustbin is his restaurant
Each tit bit or morsel that he might find
Will keep him alive and independent
He is just the roving kind
Each night he returns to the municipal park
His bench is always there
Another newspaper will keep him warm
So he can sleep without a care
But he is not alone it seems
He has a field mouse for company
Who arrives each night to sleep in his pocket
And will even partake a sip of his tea
As he sleeps he must remember
Not to turn over or disaster could strike
He would crush his little rodent friend
The one he has nicknamed Mike
So together they settle beneath the stars
Out in the cold and rain
And when they awake they both need to rise
And face the world again
Old Roddy, our gallant hero
From fighting, on the Som, in world war one, and yet
Has memories that bring him nightmares
Of things he saw that he would rather forget
Time has passed him by so much
His mind a blank to the person he once was
No one knows a thing about his life as they pass by
The ones who glare and cuss
But he always greets the day with a cough and a smile
Puts newspaper in his shoes to fill the holes
And watches intently as the old park-keeper
Clears up the work of last night’s Moles
As Mike runs off to forage for food
Old Roddy prepares to venture out into the morning Sun
Because his greatest adventure is about to rise
Unbeknown to him it has begun
Because every day is a new beginning for him
Where he will travel only he knows
But he will always return to his park bench home
In the park where the flowers grow
So if you pass him by asleep
Or if he is awake just say hello
Because unlike him you surely will
Not have far to go
And just remember one thing
When you see Roddy out in the rain and snow
He and his little field mouse friend Mike
Have nowhere else to go
His pockets may be empty
His clothes may look like rags
And as he wanders around the place
His worldly goods are all in bags
But that does not make you a better person
Than he ever could have been you see
But for fate and misfortune
It could be you or me