Strangers – Written August 2005 (Aged 30)

Strangers

i met someone strange
who was mad with blindness
had hurtled headlong into life
convinced of their kindness
they lived in the quiet of their lives
a tempermental brain
and lamentable eyes
they had arms longer than they should
hands which almost worked
but never really could
they hid a knife in their hip belt
and paraded a promise
of the hurt they could melt
they were a river bound tear
destined to damn up my defences
and to add fog to all that was clear
i watched with lazy disdain
the denial of self belief
honesty and the body soaked path
i rushed down a street
in my ears the sound of care
but pity is not my city
i have never really lived there
i curled up in a barn on a piece of land
i turned in my fretful sleep
i just try to do what i can




More poetry at
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/




James Garratt – August 2005