I sit alone and stoned,
Stoned as the night alone,
Wondering of who’s alone,
Cold and very bold,
I lye in bed stones,
Stoned as rock,
Then I reach my angel of love.
I see a star above,
To reach I cannot see,
To bright is she,
Never to reach her; peak
I crawl and crawl,
To bleed beneath my knees,
I feel pain and shame,
For guilt is my gain.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
You laugh and play,
A freak I must say.
Alone I must play.
I walk up and down,
Confused my destiny numb,
My journey is my rejection,
My darkness is my obsession.
I sit alone and drunk,
Just thing of my life,
How it came and is coming.
I and again walking junk….alone
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Comments about this poem (Junk Yard by Heriberto GarciaIII )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Kazi Nazrul Islam
(24 May 1899 - 29 August 1976)
(1330 - 1390)
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