In The Bleak And Dark Lane-Ways

In the bleak and dark lane-ways off of Poverty Street
A millionaire is one you could not hope to meet
In disused factory doorways out of mind out of sight
The poor of the city shelter from the night
From the cold winds of Winter that blow through the park
Their chilly sleeping quarters are draughty and dark
Yet the best place for them to rest in their poor street of the town
Where only the most hopeful daydream of renown
In a fair Human World it does seem fair to say
Anybody would not have to live in this way
The homeless have life's saddest stories to tell
Of their sad existence in their Earthly Hell
Their better days to the forever are gone
But the great lust for life inspires them to live on.