Hard Headed

A once healthy old man all alone in the sand. I reflect upon my past The good and the bad. All that I've had. Why time went by so fast. With a cough and a weeze I rise up to my knees. Then I roll a cigarette. A hand through my hair. A breath of fresh air. At least they've not killed me yet. Still one set of prints. That really stinks. No wonder I'm so lonely. So back to my tent where again I will vent about losing my one and only. Another day is done. Wasn't that fun? I lie down to read. I can't find my book though I look and I look. So instead I smoke some weed. A couple of good puffs of fresh homegrown stuff. My head vieled in fog. Although a rarity I have a moment of clarity and decide to get a dog. I now close my eyes and await the sunrise where it starts over again. But such is the quandry of this stoned, stupid and onery, hard headed, homeless man.