The Vagrant

Death to all humans-

To angels and imps

We're right at the gate

But we can't catch a glimpse

 

Can't catch a break

Can't keep in time

Can't stop my toes

From crossing the line

 

Line up like ants

And march to the queen

She thrives while you struggle;

She's fat and you're lean

 

Sun-drenched and sweet

We played on the grass

Making bouquets

Of daisies and glass

 

For the want of a home

You gave up your kin

Who sent you away

With a bottle of gin

 

And here, now, we rest

On the side of a street

Together one vagrant

Weary hearts; blistered feet.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Very good description of someone who is shut out of society living on the margins. Only thing i was a little disappointed in the very last line that for me did not finish off the poem smoothly. Still very good.