the beat cop stopped it on the street
you aren't supposed to walk the night
it's my only time it muttered under breath
I don't exist in the daylight.
a home I must find now and a fire
and someone to call my own
surely it isn't too much to aspire
when the chill is freezing my bone.
in its eyes only was the fire's glow
all doors were bolted dead tight
the shadow melting in night's flow
got no warmth from stars burning bright.
a home was made in its dream
a hearth to keep out the night
one heart showed up in starlight's gleam
one door not bolted dead tight.
the beat cop let the shadow pass by
for it must walk the end of night
to find a fire and someone its own
before dawns the earthly daylight.
So many shadows walk the night, looking for warmth, looking for light. I loved this one, Pradip.
A reminder of all those homeless on the street. There are so many that the police can do nothing but turn a blind eye. Thank you Pradip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A metaphoric presentation of the shadowy existence of thosands of destitute lives who have nothing to claim on this Earth as their own! ! Another great write, Pradip! !