02 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, No Comments.

Poem 066 Disrobed down to a child

Disrobed down to a child, I’ve dreamt outside the gate, no feathers for this head I lay, no pride, nor fear, nor hate,
the world is my home, yet, I’m so alone, imprisoned by the wait

Far inside the day has risen, deep inside echo’s a cry, as if a silent voice from heaven,
was seeking out, this place I lie

I stood beside the table, for a scrap to fill my plate, then melted into the night alone, no pride, nor fear, nor hate,
the world is my home, yet, I’m so alone, imprisoned by the wait

Far behind the day has ended, in the breath of another day,
with a withered body & tired feet, I seek out, a place to lay

The world is my home, yet, I’m so alone, imprisoned by the wait