The Vagrant

Death to all humans-

To angels and imps

We're right at the gate

But we can't catch a glimpse



Can't catch a break

Can't keep in time

Can't stop my toes

From crossing the line



Line up like ants

And march to the queen

She thrives while you struggle;

She's fat and you're lean



Sun-drenched and sweet

We played on the grass

Making bouquets

Of daisies and glass



For the want of a home

You gave up your kin

Who sent you away

With a bottle of gin



And here, now, we rest

On the side of a street

Together one vagrant

Weary hearts; blistered feet.