fauxcroft

Like the ghost from the unknown

He sleeps in the shadows even in the cold,

Roughed up by time grizzled and so old

Such s sad story among many others to be told,

He is one of the lost and tormented souls,

Who’s home is made of cardboard,

And it resides in shop doorways,

He relies on others kindness each and every day,

To keep his thirst and starvation at bay,

Where did he come from nobody knows,

And when his body can’t take no more and he fades away,

He will disappear like a ghost unknown,

Never to be seen or remembered as he disappears in an ethereal flow.