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Wandering Alone

Wandering alone, I felt the presence
Of the hand of death,
Creeping along the path.
I hear the loud sobs,
Of a mother,
Who’s son has just deceased.
I fall to my knees and cry.
For those who have passed,
For those who hurt,
For those who wander alone,
In a life of pure unhappiness.
©2005-2009 ~wolfsage
:iconwolfsage:

Author's Comments

Yeah, I barely post. I wish I could. I haven't written anything for quite a while, but I have drawings that I'd like to post...if only I could get the scanner here and hooked up.

I found this poem while browsing things in my file on my computer. I think it was done either 8th or 9th grade.

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October 8, 2005
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