The Vagrant

Steve Pearson Poetry

Beneath the news he lay to sleep
Upon politely absent down,
Within his makeshift castle keep,
The public, private clown.
The world wends about his feet
Ignorant of his dream.
To laugh, to bathe, to calmly eat
And to a man beseem.
Again the day, again the night,
Again the naked chill.
Beneath the news, upon his plight,
The world evades him still

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