A leprechaun sat on his pot of gold

"What luck," said a weary traveler

"A bit of gold will get me a room and a meal up the way a bit"

"Ah, yes but only a clover of four would I give up a piece of me gold!"

So off the traveler searched and soon he found a plant to bring the leprechaun. 

True to his word he took the clover and gave him a piece of his gold. 

Soon the traveler sat at the inn and told his tale to another patron over a pint of ale. Whom then went off, found a clover and met the leprechaun to the same end and told his tale to another patron at another inn over another pint of ale. 

One by one they came and one by one the gold pieces left. 

Until the leprechaun sat on a single piece of gold. 

Back at an inn, the last to tell the tale sat down with another over a pint of ale. Though the story had changed from time to time it always started the same, " what luck! A leprechaun that can't count."

We age with the stars

Another sun set

Cast behind the brittle oak tree.

The night shines

And you and I

Grow another day old

A boy sat in a mans body

Squarely between Main and Franklin,

Held up by the wooden splinters of the telephone pole.

The violent shivers, the only sign of life

His eyes hung low.

His hands a dirty shade of brown;

That and his unkempt beard

The only human features that showed.

The pants were fitted for a larger man.

A sweatshirt covered by a tattered jacket.

A frail body within the clothes.

One boot out-stretched

The other, with a broken lace,

Was pulled into his body;

A cardboard sign rested neatly upon it.

It read:

Too young to have given up hope

Anything will help