Poor man

"Where do I live?" he asked and turned his head.
"Can't remember, what key? Where stands my bed?
Can't remember the street. No name left in my mind.
Was it here or there? Would you please help me to find?"

He poked me on my shoulder of thin, thin glass.
He couldn't see, it immediately broke in half.
I'm sure, it wasn't really on his behalf,
But it broke, fell down on old, dirty looking grass.

"How could I help with my shoulder that broken?"
He just looked at me. Had he heard what I'd spoken?
"Show me the bunch of keys there in your hand!
Than go in this pub and sing there with the band!"

I left the place; his keys still in my mind.
Watched to the right.Watched to the left.
Went up and down the rainy street.
Ran until my hearts started to beat.

No flat at all for the poor man in this town.
No lock I could open with the keys in my mind.
So I went back, had some ales instead.
Listened to him, offered him my bed.


* A text, I just wrote word for word. I had no idea of the story before, esp. not the ending. DISLIKE :(