I wrote a poem to accompany the picture.
He's got a hat
A New York Yankees hat
He wears it forward and not back
They called him the home run king
When he hit the ball he gave it real zing
But now he's all washed up
Got busted for throwing a game for a coupla bucks
Now he spends his days on the streets
Selling hot dogs and similar meats
Although it might not appear the case
He's doing well, he's in some good head space
He's in touch with his true self
He's wearing his real face
He kicked the habit and the hangers on
Got some real friends who won't do him wrong
He's found himself, he's been restored
He's a zombie on the move forward
See you next time
-Mulga
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