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The Wanderer
November 30, 2011
He whimpers and whines
As he makes his way through
The concrete jungle that
Was once a great world
He could call his own
He takes one step
And then yet another
Into the plush white ground
And as he does so,
He shivers and shakes
Upon its fierce bite
No one knows him.
No one cares for him.
They understand not
How great of a king
He had once been.
But as all seems lost,
It no longer is so,
For when he looks up,
He sees that good face.
That friendly face
He had come to love
It was his friend,
Man’s very best friend.
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