A Hobo's Complaint Poem by Nicholas Abaddon

I have put these words on paper

because i found no walls

the day, Friday, On a train

As hard as a rock I slept.

Never can I rest in peace

Especially in a place for lease.

I miss my law firm.



They complain I am unsightly,

That they own the bush or tree.



So their cold faces I stare at,

Until they threaten to get a bat.

So on I trudge through the mud,

maybe I’ll find a bud.



Maybe they lose their jobs

their homes and Rolex.

Then maybe they’ll see,

Life as a hobo aint a cup of tea.