《Ink & Tears》Chapped

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The low upon our streets

How dare they exist

A reflection of what we all could be

Unwashed unwanted and hungry

Chapped and scabbed lips

Blisters upon their cheeks

Ratty tattered clothing

Why must they be seen

As they cling to what little shade there is

Blood and piss stained blanket

Corrupting our painted grass

Mirror image in crome as you pass

Just get a job you bum

Everywhere is hiring

As though mental disease

Can be overcome with ease

But please continue to critique

Judge from your padded leather seat

Don’t forget your cooled cushion

To sooth your chapped ass cheeks.

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