A Cardboard Box.
I lived in a cardboard box from April
to December,
No work, No money, No food, Ah how I well remember.
I
wandered the busy streets looking for a job or two,
How People looked and
disdained we the miserable few.
I washed dishes, in a busy restaurant it was
worth a meal,
No one cared or asked but it was forbidden you know to
steal.
When my work was done I washed and shaved my face,
I could not
press my tattered suit it was really a disgrace.
I walked back to my box with
newspapers that I had found,
It was a good insulation you know on that hard
cold ground.
I was not alone others were quite near to me,
We all had a
box it was the best we could do you see.
Many or all were hungry and some
suffered from the cold.
We were quite well mixed, some young and some really
old.
How we looked forward to the Salvation Army’s hot soup,
It somehow
kept us upright no human should have to stoop.
Then there came the day when
we given some clothes,
A charitable organisation gave that what others had
disposed.
On a cold December’s morning my luck suddenly changed,
They
admitted me into hospital; they thought that I was disarranged.
I was given a
nice warm bed and a really good slap up feed,
A Lady asked me about my
circumstances and what I would need.
I said, "I wanted a job any work would
do, and of course a room,"
A whole week they kept me and watched me push a
broom.
Then along came a man dressed in a suit of clothes (Quite
New).
Come along with me he said and I will see what I can do.
I have
never been out of work since and I have always worked hard.
Now I am retired
and lead the life of a Bard.