Poetry

Drifter

Alone
Amidst the nameless faces
Lost and scared
Groping for some familiarity
He the lonesome drifter
The dust in the wind
Knows no home
And has only ever known his family
Ages ago
In a past life
As this one drifts on
Helpless
All he can do is watch the darkness
And know his chances are bleak
At best
And so he drifts on
He with no place
Known to many
But known by few
A lost cause
Bad investment
And a waste of time
His walls to high
And his guard to strong
Those who get to close
Are only stung
By the magnitude of his own pain
Who will save the roving drifter
Catch him in the rye
With an outstretched arm
And hope in there heart
Where are they?
They who would save him
Hidden behind those say
They can
They will
Because they want to
The true hero of our drifter
Will not know they can save him
Will only try unknowingly
But succeed none the less
But for now
The drifter roves on
Carried away by the wind
And off through the shadows
In which his savior hides

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