I Walked the Last Mile In My Shoes

I’ve walked a mile in the other man's shoes that have left me tired and sore. Each step has piled up through the years, He had problems galore. I jumped off a fright in Nashville, my pockets can’t find a dime. My stomach hungers for a burger and fries But my lips thirst for whiskey or wine. I cling to the wagon, grabbing for a chance So, I’ve traded my thumb for a boxcar, swaying with the rails in step to the devil’s dance The rain is slowly falling, and the lights of a bus stop come into view. It’s a chance to rest my bones and a roof to cover me too. I start a little lizard as he hides from the passers-by. His perch is safe from worry his home is dusty and dry. He eyes me with suspicion, his little legs pumping up and down. He lives his life in colors, changing from green to brown. He seems to except my failures and he peeps up without a blink. Could a lizard have pity for a tramp? It’s a notion, too shameful to think An old, dejected dog trots by, with pause he stands exposed. The rain washing his ragged coat and wetting his dripping nose. I welcome him in for the night making it a lowly band of three. Considering as far down as I am It’s a step up for the likes of me