Just A Bagman
Poem By Neil Solan
Goes the rainwater, dripping off of my head,
I yielded to embarrassment long ago;
When I made the street my bed.
The streets go on blinding,
My aching feet are soaking through,
But I was once a young medallion,
I was once a jewell, like you.
Old friends do not know me
Like i'm a forgotten disease,
Man only does for others
When they too, can please.
Remembering the smell of Gran's biscuits
and the scent of Grandad's pipe,
It bursts my chest to regurgitate the past;
I well and truly lost that fight.
From my couch out here in the backsies
I see the azure light your room displays,
I am drawn in to the warmth,
I'm drawn in to the halcyonic rays.
But I know, i'm just a bagman
And what the hell do bagmen know?
I am just a piece of shit
With nowhere else to go.
But I once had a ruby,
Ionce held it in my hand,
I once had a hand-made castle
Stnading proudly in the sand,
But Fate's cumbersome boots
Soon came marching up behind,
And as they did to my castle,
They did also, to my pride.
Now I stand here desolate
With no pride inside at all,
How I wish I had your dead-end job
And your damp upon my walls,
But you, you complain at the weather
But you know not about collapse,
Instead of staring at my faults,
Take a look at the bloody facts.