My Own Best Friend

by Sep 20, 2018Poems

Stooping down and listless still
the rain, the pavement scarried
the men they took my food and oil
and all that I had carried

They robbed me with a fountain pen
they left me in the rain
they said they’d come back God knows when
just to add more to my pain

I pushed my umbrella into the hail
I watched it rip and tear
onlookers sneered as they saw me fail
sideways with a glare

I begged for bread with steely eyes
my plate I wiped it clean
“the Government” they said “is telling lies”
it’s always ever been

My friends I found them, some up, some down
in rooms of soft fine leather
but I had business back in town
and stepped out into the weather

I know I’m welcome any time
to share the common bread
where fault is lost for any crime
‘cept what’s on in my head

If I could realise just one thing
that all is not at end
I have a verse, a song to sing
I am my own best friend