Man on the City’s Sidewalks

You assume that I drink and that I blew all
my money
On hookers and booze and I find it funny
That you can assume that you know about where I have been
Well, none of my money went toward
buying gin
I came home from the war, and my wife kicked me out
She had some man on the side I knew
nothing about
She took all the money, and took both of
my kids
And in a matter of seconds I had nowhere
to live
I tried to get jobs so I could pay rent
But the economy is bad, so I resorted to cement
And now I live on the streets, you all stare as you walk by
And mutter to one another “What's wrong with that guy”
I'm not mentally disabled, an alcoholic or thief
I'm just a man on the city's sidewalks,
dealing with my grief