Have you seen the old man who walks the streets in your town,

fumbling for change in his worn out clothes,

have you seen the old man who scuttles around eyes cast down,

chasing empty crisp packets the wind has blown,

have you seen the old man who talks to shadows,

being shunned by children who tease and call him names,

have you seen the old man with string around his waist,

who never sees any sunlight and whistles the blues,

have you seen the old man who calls his home a park bench,

his garden is a meadow with screaming youths,

have you seen the old man talking to shadows,

picking through the dustbins for half eaten food,

have you seen the old man with grey empty eyes,

walking round the streets that he despised,

have you seen the old man who picks up cigarette butts,

shaking hands with strangers, for a light,

have you seen the old man laying in a puddle,

his words are soft and muddled his clothes ripped and torn,

have you seen the old man who has been forgotten,

left in the rubbish eyes cold and sodden,

have you seen the old man shuffling round in your town,

who hides in the shadows stinking of booze,

have you seen the old man crying in the darkness,

carrying all his belongings in his worn out shoes,

have you seen the old man standing on the corner,

waiting for a hand out from a friendly soul,

have you seen the old man splashed by passing traffic,

ignored by his neighbours because he's old.