TRAMPS LONELY LIFE Inaccessible, cold, clamminess greeted me, The house at least had a roof. I searched hard and long where could an entrance be. A half broken shutter I spied to my right, My gnarled hands began to work fast. Soon my feet touched dusty boards; there was only little light. A broken painting I stare at with wonder, I’m absorbed, infatuated with that face. Maybe this was the owner, maybe I ponder. A half eaten roll makes an adequate snack, Washed down with a drop of coke. Huddled in a corner, I try to sleep covered in an old dirty sack. Shimmers of light wake me shivering and damp, The house at least had sizable room. Here I will stay a recluse forever, My lonely life as a tramp.Birth sign: Scorpio
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