Christu

Shadows make strokes, against the falling rain, it shocks me I'm broke, echoes of an empty suitcase, ends another sad holiday, it's no news to me, at St Anthony’s alone, a loss carries no certainty, when you need to loan, songs of a dismal tone, lonely trains, whistle and moan, to beg again, with love gone on 'planes, or down the Freeway, I mark my zones, shades of the infirmary, cradles my bones, I'm a happy soul, reclaimed from the cafes, listen to this joke, one chancer says.