Analysis of Burning Circles

The turning world around his head
The old newspapers that make his bed
A child alone, his mother dead
Having to lie and steal for his bread

On city streets and in tunnels below
He steals the seeds that others did sow
And the cold winds with their fowl smells
Drive his lost spirit closer to hell

Then he rapes and murders to his own end
And another child is born that on no one can depend
And the burning circle starts again
To follow in the tortures of its predecessor's pain