Inglorious


There he was on the street,
Not a dime to his name,
Loafing around the midnight air,
Was looking for a steal,
Something small and something big,
All that a wad of money could bring,
What a desperate fool indeed.

Slammed his face on car headlight,
Was a battered wheel one at that,
No nook or corner in sight,
He was lost and timeless on the street,
Thus was his story of ages ago...

Same streets  now reside,
An inglorious reaper on his feed.

 ©flyingonemptythoughts


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