A king in his realm…

His palace was made of tarpaulin,

And regal crown made of tin foil;

His reign filled with quaint lanes,

The plastic pipe he held – his sword cane;

Dilapidated, dingy narrow lanes – Yet,

Filled with abundant love, I bet!

Bottle caps, buttons, cardboard,

Were invaluable treasures he guarded;

His arrival announced royally in style,

By the chugging of a passer-by train

Well, the rhythmic patter of raindrops,

Were the only applause he sought;

Happily residing in his own paradise,

The ragpicker’s son was a king in his realm!

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