Your belongings are meager
As you wander loveless streets,
And the sidewalks kill your soul
When you have no place to sleep.
For a young child,
Life should be visionary dreams,
Not drug dens of demise
Where everyman has a predator’s eyes.
Life unravels for everyone in time,
But there should be happiness and joy
Intermingled in-between birth
And the onset of the inevitable obscene,
But some people get cast aside
The moment they leave their mother’s breast.
A dark soulful read Uriah. Sounds as though you are writing from experience here. But there is optimism too, in the wings of the title. love Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Exceptionally sad, but also exceptionally well written. Fine work, Uriah. Sandra
Sober write...profound and soulsearching as well.i like the way you construct your work....always crisp &tight for good, easy reads....'''''''''''''''''''FJR
For all those lost souls, I would wish them that happiness and joy, my husband was one such child and I hope I gave him some of the above in our 23 years of love. There is someone out there for every lost soul. Wicked poem, the title is spot on, made me cry, but it is good for us apparently, releases the tension, so we can fly free again. Smiling at you, and loving your work, Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
bravo xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx