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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Contest · #737142
I am enjoying myself below the full moon one fine eve.
Street - Smart


Prowling the roads one night,
Under a glorious full moon,
I saw myself all bed-raggled,
Living in my own home soon.

A bowl of soup in hand,
May not amount to much,
But have it with bread and buns,
With butter and all things such.

I may be called a tramp,
And all I do is dream,
But sometimes they are so kind,
They give it to me with cream.

Hey, look where you're goin'
I am an upright man, I am,
I know not where I am going,
And know not whence I came.

Too many things to think
For a homeless tramp is tough;
The life with me goes on,
By no means smooth, it is all rough.


-© Dr. Taher Kagalwala (August 2003)



Written for
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The Writer's Cramp Open in new Window. (13+)
Write the best poem or story in 24 hours or less and win 10K GPS!
#333655 by Sophurky Author IconMail Icon
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Prompt was: homeless, full moon and a bowl of soup, poem to be 20 lines or less.
© Copyright 2003 Dr Taher writes again! (drtaher at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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