About being homeless. -6th January 2013.


I'll be a traveller.

The winds are my only companion -
My only conversation.
I miss it when it is gone.

Still, I'll be a traveller.

The damp doorstep is my pillow -
Something steady,
Something of my worth.

Still, I'll be a traveller.

The orange hue of streetlight
Is my guide, my timekeeper
and my warmth.

Still, I'll be a traveller.

The darkness is wild tonight,
My tears go unnoticed,
But I don't mind -

I'll be a traveller.



Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 655 times
Written on 2013-01-06 at 23:58

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Well done, John, very effective.
2013-01-11


Nils Teodor The PoetBay support member heart!
Very well written
A poem that touch the heart
Thanks for sharing
N T
2013-01-07



Been there, sometimes still am. I often find myself eating by my lonesome, without any reason, there are people enough around me at home. Must be the vagabond soul, travelling still, when my feet had already found their home. Like the wind, the wandering spirit travels on. Profound & moving. Apoem to keep close at heart.
2013-01-07