The Wanderer Poem by Victor Kretzie

Once apon a midnight dreary*
he walks on the stones
the air is thin and weary
and o'sure he knows

A lantern in his hand
a sickly dim light
the key is in his hand
and the window shines bright

The chalk falls on his coat
he wipes it clean
as the only thing he knows
is washing with his sins

He stands before the door
thinking in his dreams
as the light grows more
ships bring him his things

He turns the key in the lock
but the door stays shut
and he wonders in the light
and he wonders

*From The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe