Mr Nobody Copyright © John Snell 2010

People passing, looking down
With disgust, with a frown
Others show just how they feel
Am I a con, am I real
Could it be I have no home
And have to spend my time alone
On city street or hard park bench
Sifting bins, I hate the stench!
But looking I can often find
A meal that someone left behind
In half filled bottle I find drink
Joe Public would prefer it were a sink
When they see me so worse for wear
In the street, on the stair
From time to time I might sit up
To share my story, shake my cup
But as I approach the end of day
I realise I have to stay
In all the squalor, all the mess
Mr Nobody of no address