When The Best of Bad Has Flown Away
The leaves are rocking to and fro
upon a colder wind,
tossed about from lawn to lawn
between the fence post pinned.
Moonlight's shining through the trees
a mesmerizing dance,
striking here and there upon me,
midnight's sharpened lance.
A haunting song has fallen
on ears too deaf to hear,
as passing age and time go by,
another winter's near.
But now I have no place to sleep,
it's another homeless day.
There's never any good luck left
when the best of bad has flown away.