The Barrow Man.

He’s an old man now that’s plain to see
He had his time when he was young and free
He’s a lot older now than he oughta be
He’s played it hard and he still sings in key

The streets are no place on which to live
But he doesn’t fit it and he doesn’t give
Money in his hands was like sand in a sieve
The streets are hard and they don’t forgive

He was a banker with a life of wheels and deals
Now he begs for food and grog he steals
With the Rosie’s crew he makes promissory deals
When the gutter kids rob him, he never squeals

He sleeps down by the cemetery in ol’Queen Street
He keeps to himself and is very discreet
He shy and quiet and but not hard to meet
He finds food for his friends, all the birds to eat

I see him with his trolley and all his bags
Free from anyone like a wife that nags
His back is bent and his head wearily sags
He says he proud of his Aussie flags

I showed him the new flag, the one that’s true blue
He said he liked it and its time for a flag that’s new
That Queen’s and ol lady and a bit of a shrew
As far as flags go that one, she’ll do

He’s an old man now and still full of fight
And he knows the difference between wrong and right
He reckons the light rail project will be a blight
And politicians are bastards that can’t sleep at night

Into his sleeping bag at night he shuffles with a crawl
He reckons when he was younger he was six foot tall
He likes his little bush spot with the creatures one and all
And he says his only worry is the ever encroaching, urban sprawl

Copyright belongs to Jeffrey Goudy - Poetry in Paradise - Reg Trade mark Number 1028534 17/08/08