He lived a broken life, he did
As he roamed the countryside
The neighbors knew he stole from them
When asked, he flat out lied
He'd take their clothes straight off the line
And raid their pantry shelves
When asked, he said it wasn't him
And blamed it on the elves
There were a couple feral cats
That followed him around
Though they weren't his, he often ate
Stray chickens that they found
He had no home to call his own
His family was long gone
He'd hunker down on mossy ground
And rise again at dawn
There seemed to be no purpose
To the squandered life he led
But everyone knew he was there
Somewhere on their homestead
Sometimes there'd be no sign of...