Blessings

The mere thought 

Of the morsels waiting 

For him

Chase away the

Demons of doubt 

And replace them with

Tears of joy

His gaze now

Fixed on the feast

Tuna and peanut butter

A vagabond's special

As he pays little mind

To the jeers 

And 

Judgmental eyes

From the snobbish 

Passerby

He rides the bliss

Into the night

And counts his blessings

For one more day