- Books, Literature, and Writing
alone he sits beneath the light
under brick and stone
in the wind he left he dreams
along with blood and bone
to the moon he raised his head
and shouted to the glow
"if time stood still, and robbed my will
how am I to grow"
In this fight that he called life
he went back to where he started
out of time and out of breath
the starved had soon departed.