A Poem by The Poet of Black Wings

A man in orange

Wanders through the streets

Of a wintry,

Hostile city.

The metropolis is unlike where he came from.

Unlike how he was taught to live.

It is cold,

Not just in the air,

But in the heart, as well.

Same, for it's people.

Weather the ice spread

Out from the core,

Or in from the skin,

Is uncertain.

Everyone is very glacial,

To one another.

And indifferent to the man.

Ignoring him in any way.

The state of all,

Despairs the man greatly.

The disconnect,

The disparity

Forcing souls apart.

It is not the path.

He is unwelcome,

And they are unwilling.

To force them together,

The contrary of his belief.

The man, can not help.

Not today.

© 2016 The Poet of Black Wings

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Added on May 17, 2016
Last Updated on May 17, 2016
Tags: disparity, monk, cold


The Poet of Black Wings
The Poet of Black Wings

i hope my poems, among other writings, will speak for me. Edit - Full disclosure, if you ask me to read something, I will, and I'll be brutally honest about what I think about it. So, be ready for .. more..