The unknown poet

 

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‘We have no time to stand and stare’ ~ the tramp poet

The street poet

faceless

form

roaming

walking sidewalks

alleys

talking

unheard

forlorn glory

misplaced grace

haste

worrisome

pace

time

waste

eyes

chaste

unwritten story

sequence

unfolding

walking

standing

staring

the unknown poet

eats his fill

alone

solitude is his fare

sharing

whispers

chills

cold night air

trampled yellow flowers

over there he gets the last word in

he speaks his words

in the silence of a night

which is his own

the only thing he truly

owns.

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