The drunk on the street
dead on his feet
stinking of urine
clothes of dust
a pile of rags
no purpose in life
crawling through streets
of decaying debris
begging for money
to spend on drink
drowning his sorrows
on his sad predicament
crying with hunger
food comes second
to his addiction
a self inflicted wound
nobody really cares
people just stare
wishing he wasn't there.
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