How long, I’ve roamed this lonely world
In search of where I might belong
Pain and hurt have weighed me down
So long, that I’m no longer strong
I’m tired of putting on a face
To suit a world that doesn’t please
No more can I inflict my bones
Upon such dreary days as these
My strident strut, a shuffle now
My spirit in a foetus, curled
I’m looking forward to the day
When I’m no longer of this world
Where once I stood, a void exists
Where once I sang, a wind now blows
My vibrant colours faded fast
My grave, far off, where no-one goes
No-one will want their pound of flesh
Nor beg my mausoleum key
In fact, no-one will come at all
Then surely peace will come to me.
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Yes, often hard to see and find
-----especially in some enviroments
That why a good safe change of view is oft so helpful....
Another great one....
Regis
budd
There is a deep sadness in your words. If only we could reach down and pull up by the boot strings all of those who have fallen by the wayside. In a way, Jerry is right. “Most of the homeless are there because they want to be.” But if we look deeper, we will find that the reason they have left life the way it is is because they have some deep down trouble that they can't shake and the real competitive world we call, home.
It's a difficult task, but I hope by the end of this century, we will have solved the problem of homelessness, loneliness, and despair.
Ron
This is a powerful reminder of your huge talent, amazing depth of feeling- expressions that squeeze the life out of at least me.
The world can be too much with us poets, or for us poets- but you shine very bright.
John