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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
