PAWN PEOPLE

Little, tiny, very small.

Sit all day at the mall.

I get up only to fall.

Kicks - sit - looks and fleas.

I'm really taller on my knees.

Coffee cup in right hand.

All of life seems a band.

Rich people look down on me.

Kicks - spit - looks, again that flea.

Go hind ! Find a cardboard box.

I must live like a silver fox.

YET, there are many like me.

All poor - no money, in a way free.

No real burden on my back.

The weight of gold in a sack.

I just live every hour, day.

If not used, I get a wage of pay.

Pawn people are a simple folk.

Outside the eggshell - like a yoke.

from my poem book - DREAMS 3