Jonathots Daily Blog
(3106)
Foxes Have Holes
Tweedle-dee
He ain’t dumb
Perched by the road
Considered a bum
‘Tis not funny
He needs money
I, in turn
Express concern
He does not require
My hearth or home fire
Simple he is, you see
Frantic to remain free
He trails into the night
With only the stars for light
And nibbles a tiny snack
Lying flat on his back
Staring at the changing moon
Humming an unknown tune
Some say he is a drinker
But perhaps a different thinker
An inner city blight
Or tired of the fight
Possessed by mental disease
Or doing as he may please
We are so very sure
Our path is just and pure
We cling to tried tradition
And rebuke his odd rendition
Unsure of what he may feel
We are certain he will steal
Making the beggar beg some more
Having the means but slamming the door
We decide for him what is best
A family, friends, a feathered nest
He’s a sparrow, needing to fly
Weary of the struggle, the perpetual lie
All he needs is a little cash
A tiny piece of my stash
So will I offer condemnation?
Or allow my heart consideration
Foxes have holes, said the carpenter’s son
But I sleep alone … when the day is done
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Jonathots Daily Blog 