In the park in front of my place, every night
A bunch of tramps sleep on the wooden porch
Of the bowling green club-house. They shed no light.
No policeman ever wakes them with a torch,
Because no one reports their nightly stay.
People like me who take an early walk
Just after dawn will see them start the day
By packing up.
Disagree with half of it, enjoy reading all of it
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