Lost souls in the trials of life
Outside in Melbourne's winter,
Pulling up their ragged coats
To keep out the cold most bitter.
Lost souls overlooked by life
Overlooked by all but God,
Who stagger through the lonely streets
At a gentle, weary plod.
Lost souls no longer holding out
For succour from anyone,
Who meander through life's endless trials
Until their lives are done.
Lost souls pondering, pondering
Why they must live rough,
Lost souls wondering, wondering
Why life is so tough.
Lost souls in Melbourne's streets
As winter never seems to end,
Springtime’s swallowed up in winter
As their hopes all break or bend.
The lost souls of Melbourne
Overlooked by near everyone,
Wonder through the freezing cold
Until their time is done.
Losers from the human race
No prizes for them are given,
Their hopes and dream and merriment
From their lives are riven.
Victims of the game of life
Wanderers fated to sorely lose,
Freezing in the open air
Knowing, “No news is ever good news.”
© Copyright 2010
© Copyright 2017 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.
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