Say Olori

…You know you want to

The Prowler’s Compassion

Creeping silently in the dark
As if not to leave a mark
With eyes like a fire-fly
Waiting for an unfortunate passer-by

A vicious prowler he is
A lonely traveller he sees
With a dirty bag on her head
And a little child unfed

The traveler approaches,
Unaware of the prowler’s own advances
He hurries toward her like a lion in rage
And grabs furiously at her luggage

Shock has her thrown on the ground
The child clings to her, at first without a sound
She gathers him in her arms as he starts to wail
Then her own tears are set assail

The thief stops in his track
Guilt striking him with a whack
He returns to the subjects of his attack
And helps the mother to her feet

The vicious prowler, a comforter he becomes.


Waiting to read your thoughts on this. xoxo

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This entry was posted on November 14, 2012 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , .
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