A robin pecks at the ground.

An Earth Worm mistakes it for rain.

I look on sadly, feeling the poor worm's pain.

he wiggles out of the ground towards his grave.

If there was a way to save

the poor little worm; I would.

The tears are coming, I'm about to cave.

For it isn't fair You came like rain.

But you chewed me up and spit me out.

Filled my hollow mind with doubt.

I shout out to the void.

But I think nothingness is getting annoyed, You know?

The Robin fly's off with the Earth Worm.

It was such a Lovely show.

© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn

Once I lived deep in a forest
My bleeding heart turned to stone
I disappeared out in the shadows
A hollow tree I called home

I know what it is to be a hobo
Train to train, same house twice
I know how it feels to beg and borrow
To share my roll with scratchy mice

Once I even tried to phone home
But the number slipped my weary mind
And when I finally did remember
It all seem such a waste of time

Do you know what it's like to be a hobo?
Nobody knows you when you're down
Memories haunt you like a cold wind
I was lost but now I'm found

Now I live upon a mountain
High above the raging sea
Timeless, old but not forgotten
This hobo nature inside of me...

(                          
•
                             )

)                            
•                                      
(                                                    



                                       ^^^

                       The spirit of the      Only One

                      (     We talk of many things    )

                  The only child
sleeps in the alleyways

We talk of oh so many things                            

/:/:/

Listen

The gentle rain
      
                            (   The homeless mother weeps  )

We struggle for prosperity

Below the drone airplanes
That

                               Keep us in our            Place

/:::/

It's just another morning here in dystopia !

                                 (  The homeless mother weeps )

            The spirit of the        Only One

Wanders down by the alleyway

Sees the child and stays

To guard his holy dreams                                    

:::
:::    :::

Two great birds in the sky

Omens of the coming days

Are some people just not made to love?
Are they simply unable or unworthy to love
Or to be loved?