Rough Sleeper

This was written in 1980 and recorded in 2017.

"Time's footprints tread muddy and mean
On the once glossy cover of an old magazine.
Creased and crumpled, the pages in between,
The library of a life, now tattered, obscene,
Tell a tall tale of what might have been,
Never to now be known.

Sleek and satisfied with lies,
Taught by schoolbook to despise,
Indifferent and blinkered eyes
See no sleeping prince disguised,
Just one life's worthless merchandise,
Heir to a scarecrow throne.

In shining armour all glitter and gloss,
Pretty and fickle as candy floss,
Handsome captains, hollow and lost,
On stormy oceans pitch and toss
And squint the wind for an albatross
In the midst of a black cyclone.

A poor, grey clown with no sense of timing,
Hesitant and undeciding,
Under a cloud with no silver lining,
Asleep, he's still seventeen. 

Where, rich by no accident of birth,
Not substituting wealth for worth,
He sails his treasure island, earth,
On a breeze of cheap poteen. 

I know a young man once was told
At the end of the rainbow lay a pot of gold.
I know a young man, grown old
Searching for a dream."