Dreaming from the window sill

Sometimes while looking thro the window of my room I think
What secret in the depths of earth doth hide
Beneath the empty gestures passed 'tween strangers on the walk
Beneath the empty stares which do collide
I often wonder if another soul among the shades
withers as mishapen as is mine
(and) what slim chances lie within the tablets of the gods
that two unweary poets may collide

I often protest to the skies in question of my birth
And why they chose to make me so unfit
While others gaze on straight ahead beholding such as life
My vision without warning always twists

While other children cried I often laughed

And as they laughed in joy I often cried

While others sat in silence I would sing

Something compelling pushed me deep inside

Since those days of infanthood I often can recall
deep darkness and the night arising ainxst
Bound by fetters of a child's role within this world
In moonlit forest vistas I escaped
How cruel a joke!
(I often swear)
my cracked and broken feet!
When walking thro the normal laymens life
Such ill routines
(sharades)
which bring me restlessness and pain
Have never kept my company at night

I choose to hold those travesties my dreams my wishes; hope
That I may feel that hopeless romance bite
And such appauling gestures to most hooting crowds of man (often)
Keep this poet dreaming in the night