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Watching, waiting, clouds slip by the moon.
Shining, lightning, bright pinholes appear too soon. 
Groping, hoping, homeless walks alone-
Bumbling, mumbling, is his presence known?
Gently, easily, cool breezes kiss his face
Gazing, looking, he screams-where’s my place?
Hunching, slouching, crouched and slumped in the door
Holding, pleading, stretches arm out asks for more.
Walking, avoiding, the strangers pass him by
Dying, flying, he looks up and questions why.

Author: Katestrawberry

I am a published author and writer/editor available for hire. I create abnormal, strange, and sometimes slightly erotic poetry. Crazy Girl. Creative Genius.

One thought on “Groping”

  1. Wonderful and touching yet sad. A vivid look into the eyes of not only the misfortune, but the missed fortune that he may have had. You are a talent at capturing feeling from another’s point of view.

    Liked by 1 person

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