A lone-standing steeple stands solemnly high
Protruding proudly up into a sky
Strewn with stars, as midnight draws nigh,
Its lonesome beauty notices only by I.
Off to the left stands a solitude man.
Ragged, unshaven, yet he understands,
For too the night has taken his hand
And led him unto this hellish land.
One thing commonly shared, the night is our home.
Like the star reaching steeple, we stand all alone.
For as sentenced by night, we are condemned to roam.
Like the star reaching steeple, we stand on our own.
Into nights ear, my sorrows I confide.
Decisions I thought right were but foolish pride.
Why did I run with nowhere to hide?
Why did I run with nowhere to hide?
Reflection
At 18, Run-Away fell into my head. I had overstayed my welcome with family and friends. I was unwanted. Unloved. Unhuman. Alone in the dark of Victoria Park I slumped. Souls had ebbed and drifted on. Midnight had come and softly gone. Cross the street there shyly shone the glow of a stained glass moon. Then I saw him. He shuffled from shadow to shadow then slipped from sight. But he stayed bitter and bright in my mind. he was a reflection. He helped me to understand my homelessness. Nya:weh Solitude Man.
