Roaming
Round and round
Confounded by
The fruition of good things
That comes to those who wait patiently,
But he waited and waited more,
As he explored
And slept on floors
Never to find
The hidden warmth inside
Of a family or a home
So he now resides,
In the windows of your eyes
From the strangers that pass by.
Beautiful – and touchingly sad. You really capture the sense of isolation of the homeless young man who exists as a reflection and nothing more. Love this.