Vagrancy

by icanbefixed

Published April 7, 2011

Vagrancy holds the hand of a heartfelt donor,
and as the door to his-- the donor's-- house
is held wide by his unaccompanied fingers,
more than wind comes gusting in.

While his heart is poured into a glass
those without stain it with contaminant grips.
And although they beg for everything,
they still cannot obtain.

For there isn't true posession
without the sweat of your own brow,
a cut of your own skin,
or a thought of your own inspiration.

So while you may hold my hand fervently,
you cannot permanently hollow my heart
and will not take me from my own life.
Instead, you will forever prosper in vagrancy.

Comments & reviews · 3
User avatar
Soulkana
Review
Soulkana wrote a review Review · Apr 18, 2011

This is a good poem and very deep. Good luck and I hope to read more of your works soon. There is a lot of description and feeling in this poem which makes if very good. Keep up the good work and may you get very many reviews!!! Happy Writing and my your works prosper and improve!!!
Soulkana<3

User avatar
Sageleaf
Review
Sageleaf wrote a review Review · Apr 17, 2011

Wow, I am impressed! You are a very good writer! This poem is very deep, and with a very nice flow.
The only problem that I could see was your capitalization. It looks like you weren't sure how you wanted to do it; the beginning of each line, every other, etc. Choose one and stick with it.

Awesome poem!

Sage

User avatar
AmeliaCogin
Review
AmeliaCogin wrote a review Review · Apr 7, 2011

Hello! I liked this poem. It's very deep, and I had to read it a few times to take it all in. I loved just how poetic it was. Not just words on a page but real, meaningful lyrics.
If I'm not mistaken, Vagrancy means when you have no permenant home? I think I'm right, because it means I've got the gist of this poem.
Very well done! I would normally do a nitpick, but I can't fault your work! I wouldn't even attempt to ask you to change anything. It' so rich a simplisticly tantalising! Thanks for the great piece! Brilliant!
Thanks, xxx AC



In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
— JRR Tolkien