by : Bacardi Gold
25/Dec/2020
i am a stranger
an intruder of myself
i have become an alien
to my dawned habits
an immigrant of my dreams
In the nights of my growth
one barely knew me
i became a wanderer
in the palace of my soul
under a different roof
the ages drag me through
in the shelter of saints
where prayers became foods
in every meals of sinners
named me the guest of squatters
no longer a stranger
in the company of reformed
a drifter with wings
ready to take the merits of dignity
i am a resident of my own self…
Triangle Writes... 