Predators Seek the Panhandlers - a poem of the streets.

I'm starting to worry.
The kite flyers talk,
some of it boasts,
others some sound advice,
but they mentioned money
and ears around perked
that should be noted
by all of us.

They're comparing their takes,
and the rough elements
that drift in yearly
just to feed upon
their fellow homeless hear.
Now even I'm jittery
as someone mentioned today
I had work recently.

It's one more hazard,
beyond the normal predators
who seek next highs
and see those dollars
as easy way out
of their own bind,
just hit and run,
who cares how hard.

The streets are uncaring,
some should know better,
others note the looks
but give them back
with that nasty grin
telling the beasts "Try",
as they're spoiling themselves
to take it back.

Two "Giving Seasons" now,
this makes my third
here on the streets,
and I walk soft,
but won't back down
if a fool tries
cause once you do
you're only rolled more.

One little, bright ray,
the beasts head in
once the weather turns
so tonight's dark clouds
make it safer now
for at least campers,
but those at Shelter
better watch their backs.

Don't care what's said.
It's a new crowd
hunting the panhandlers now,
though a few faces
seem a bit familiar,
more are probably just
from before my time.
Or maybe they're not.

Keep your mouths shut
never count your cash
in lonely, dark places,
or out in open.
And don't push luck,
for she's often fickle
touching your life wickedly
with her left hand.

Best defenses there are,
keep to a crew,
tell others where flying,
and only those trusted
the path returned by,
lest the rabid monsters
hunt you down swift
and leave a corpse.
--- and that will happen
several times this  year.

9October2013 - Dyfedd Rex, walking soft and safe as he can.