once cherished as a child he

knew the kindness of his

mother’s milk but long gone

the days since sweet music

of a lullaby and how the

angels weep to see him now

sleeping on the town square

bench with dust and mucous

round his reddened eyes


and through the optrex eyes

of holy cows who leave the

local church he is despised

◄ Sargasso Remembered.

3am Poem. ►


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