Harry sat on the wire of a fence,
Looking at his life melt away,
When Fog came today,
Into the dusk of the demesne.
Blur shadows overcast manors,
Dancing different forms with the light.
Same forlorn figure at the bus stop,
Travelling his own reflection years ago.
Ashamed, remembering why all this while,
This empty and heartless world,
Never gave more chances to exile,
Hard truths, bitter moments,
Back to ready budding, consoling warmer homes.
Am I loser? Am I not wanted?
A nobody’s child without protectors or guardians,
Roots cripple to its shorter brother,
In the dead search of safer earth after earth.
- Vander
Disclaimer: All poetry and fiction here are original material written by Vander. Please note that all text references, descriptions and indications are purely fictional (make-believe if you didn’t know what fiction is!) and is in no relation to any actual entities.