I am a child of the wild
I take it as it comes
I run with the rejects
the relics of the past
I’m never last, I’m never first
I hide among the middle where
there is no one here to watch
I am not brilliant, I am not dumb
I use opposing thumbs to prove
I move among the people
and I don’t move too fast
no one will know, I’m a child of the wild
I keep it secret now, you ask me how
you ask me why, my life is dependent
on the fools with tools in their hands
with strange demands, so I hide there
where it is safe and sound
around the time when they can be
so cruel, I cry tears for the tame and
sane who cannot take the abuse,
the loneliness of being all alone,
weary to the bone and needing a lover
someone to cover the minutes
the hours that shower our existence,
cover the winter bone, chase away
the ghost become a host to some creature
in the wild, be the wild child and live.
-
Author:
diamonddagger (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 22nd, 2013 19:48
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments3
intriguing scenario presented with this poem. i understand the winter bone as I often said it chilled me to the bone when the winds blew hard and cold. hiding in the middle is an interesting thought.
I fully understand what you mean I am a child of the big city and hid in the middle many times. sometimes is the eafest place. Good write.
Well said the wind that cuts through to the bone
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