Walking Poem by Chad Foster

Walking around the world so weak,
constantly sorrowing without doing wrong.

Standing here surrounded by strangers,
sorrowing for something that i have seaked.

But everything in the world is gone,
like the unknown words of a long lost song.

Finally the light at the end of the tunnel,
looking like the oilstains from and overused funnel.

Suddely found a place to rest,
sorrowing about the crumbling of the nest.