Nothing To Lose

There is no evil in the mind

Of an eight-year-old in the creek.

A young boy feels no need to unwind,

Or heed the days of the week.

Those days beneath the bridge I played

Now seem so far away.

With soap in hand and bills unpaid,

I wade waist-deep, dismayed.

My home is clay beside the water,

My bath between the banks.

Last year, they called me "globetrotter,"

Charities gave me thanks.

This world makes little sense to me,

But at least I can speak my views.

Freedom of Speech uninhibited,

When a man has nothing to lose.