Submissions by lescole

The Hobo walks a lonely road,
A poor soul carried by the breeze,
His memories his only load,
The only things the blind man sees,

A poor soul carried by the breeze,
His guide the ripples of a stream,
The only things the blind man sees,
Are places such as this. A dream

His guide the ripples of a stream,
The blind man walks, his prayers a song,
Are places such as this a dream?
To find a place to be. Belong.

The blind man walks, his prayers a song,
His memories his only load,
To find a place to be, belong,
The Hobo walks...

I would not stand nor raise my hand,
But sat in sullen gloom,
As men in dress and wigs, impressed
My vices on the room,
And as my fate was meted out,
Went meekly to my doom.

A sentence of imprisonment,
Was deemed a fair riposte,
For months of social deviance,
Four months of life it cost,
To such a place no soul should face,
Or threshold ever cross.

In menance and with gravity,
The transportation came,
To consume me in its confines, as
The jailer called my name,
And once aboard, my soul was lost,
I'd...