The lonely dead

Beggar sitting 

On a silver metal bin 

Warming his hands  

Pushed over by a thief 

Grazed red upon the cheek

Holding onto a newspaper 

And a rag of something 

On a cold night 

Died on the way 

In an ambulance 

Buried in a cemetery 

One morning 

By a priest, 

Reverend John Smith doing a 

Eulogy for the lonely dead