The deep inner workings of a beggar's mind

The Night-Watcher

Silently, he watches,

Awaiting the dawn

When all his fears

Flee the breaking light.

He sits on the edge

Of his stone cold bed

And counts the stars

That light up the night.

He’s asking himself

If it’s worth it at all

To press through his pain and

Keep up the fight.

The answer eludes him,

But he doesn’t know

Where he’s looking

Is not at all right.

His hands cup his face

As his thoughts start to race

From the low to the

Highest of height.

Soon he will see

In the darkness stands He

Who is faithful and true

Through the toughest of plight.

2 responses

  1. kenneth

    I’m liking this poetry flood keep it coming

    November 6, 2008 at 22:54

  2. Loren Fay.

    this made me cry even more..

    April 15, 2009 at 22:54

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