A home to live in the day,
Left by the streets of May
as every need had gone astray
If every time that left in rage
Cold beneath the homely stead
by words of deeds, promise not made.
In service for more than days and years.
Wrap in a bind, not content to hear
when all they do but rave and rage.
To escape beyond the boredom it hold,
Let such flight carry to the next.
Experiment…just trying to see it work…it didn’t…