Dusty Boots

There he goes again
as he struggles on his way.
His back is bent,
his clothes are ragged.
It's just another day.

At night he needs a shelter
to lay his weary body down.
People pass and glare at him
with hostile stares - and frown..

as they don't want to know
if heartbreak caused his pain.
He holds it all inside, but
feels his life blood drain.

They found him dead one morning
but no one gave two hoots, and
someone stole his pride and joy,
those well-worn dusty boots.

Years ago he was a teacher,
with a wife and son, aged three.
A driver mowed them down one day
and killed both - instantly.

I wrote this one ages ago for a contest that had to have the title "Dusty Boots, so this is what I came up with.   The subject of the homeless is always relevant, even more now I think with government cuts and austere measures.  There are many reasons why people become homeless, grief is just one.