Weary wizards wander,
a medley of murmured mutterings,
eyes itching with inner isolation,
resigned to reside in rueful reminiscccence,
negotiating night noises
and back alley battlefields
Pauper princes and parcel princesses,
lost in lean living limbo,
absorbed in street aboriginal abatement,
baffled, bewildered between
salivating and salvation,
cautiously, courageously, carry on.
