The Down & Out

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