Every Bum In Our Slum
I know like a solvable sum
Every Samson’s riddle bum
Roaming our banal slum
Besides my tricky chum
With his insincere dum-dum–dum!
Not in his favor
His ear- assaulting chewing gum,
A thing to not savor
His disquieting rum…
If not slapping some drum,
Strangers asking where they came from,
Glowering at the seemingly dumb.
Sometimes, touching tunes does hum
But with a face decidedly glum
And not infrequently hitting his mum
For recklessly postponing his plum.
.
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