Sad, no money

Empty pockets, a hollow sound,

A weary heart, on barren ground.

The sun shines bright, a cruel display,

Of joys that drift, and slip away.

A hungry sigh, a whispered plea,

For simple comforts, wild and free.

The world moves on, a vibrant stream,

While I stand still, a broken dream.

No coins to clink, no bread to share,

Just silent tears, and thin, cold air.

A heavy cloak, of shadowed plight,

Longing for dawn, and gentle light.