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Whose child is that,
on this lone road amiss?
He looks like a cat
estranged from its miss!
He looks like a ghost
matching on lanes men can't!
He reads like the toast
written in haste, without a pant!
Wrong. He's a brother,
a kid with bright destiny
Thrown by his mother
to drown in a well of infinity.
Come, hug me dear child;
if nobody loves you I do, please know.
Stop crying! stop looking wild!
I'll be your Mum, and watch you grow.
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Writer Profile
Joel
Life for me has taken a new turn since I discovered the power of my pen. Poetry is the best part of me that is yet to be rivalled.
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