What is of a day?
After Decay?
Life is like a stage, or show of a play
Without a screenplay, or re-rehearsed lines or phrases
No stunt doubles, The streets can be troubled
All classes of people can be far from humble
Observing, as sometimes I do from a street light
This poor man next to me, as I write, can hear his stomach grumble
Maybe I should buy him a sandwich?
Give him a temporary Break,
From begging and seeking the trash for scraps
