Tossed about

By woe waves he staggered

Towards a refuse dump.



He stumbled -

Broken bottles, pails lay ahead.



"Who's there? he muttered

Along Hues Lane

He fell, rolled, sighed

(Bottle in hand). Possessed...



Slept, dreamt



He's woken

By jeers of curious crowd.





- Adeshina

http://olusanya1.blogspot.com/