No Agenda

 He's got no agenda, he has no place to go
He lives life in the fast lane yet it all seems so slow
He doesn't have a home

He doesn't need sympathy, he does need a shave
He won't take advice and he's nobody's slave
And this is his poem

He's got no agenda, he don't brush his teeth
He lives for the moment and the people he meets
To find the Lord, somewhere in their eyes

He'll roam the streets and age with the dust
He'll beg for your change and some food if he must
No one ever hears his cries

He's got no agenda, he doesn't know the time of day
Nothing really matters as long as it don't rain
He'll keep passing the time

He owns only his beard and the clothes on his back
No one seems to help him, these are the facts
And he'll be homeless until he dies

2020