Hunchback Unknown

Written by: Paul Knight-Kirby

Where do you come from?
And where do you go?
Pigeon steps, crinkled blazer, bent 
Posture, sunken face, worn and never changed, 
Stumbling along your broken track 
Over hills, underpasses and tarmac 
Carrying shopping bags two for each 
Arm like a POW bound in Disciplinary harm,
Face forward not taking a blink at a 
Passer-by knowing their staring giving you a eye, sometimes 
Laughing, never wondering why, your 
Just going to your home the empty, cold, and familiar abode, 
Away from anxiety of being, among the 'normal' 
then sitting Alone wonder if you even have a 
Phone? Just wrapped up in your in-
Secure security like a forgotten Piece of furniture neglected and old,
And what has happened now your bruised and covered with blood 
Continuing on your journey no one observing, just another phase of 
Learning that you’re a ghost, bright as 
the sun visible as bacteria on toast I don't even know your name 
Or even how old I just know your 
Lonely with sadness, shopping bags 
And a hunchback to hold so may you 
 Receive everything you lack 
As you stumble quietly and alone, along your reclusive track
And when you appear again out from the mist, to gather the essentials 
to continue in life's bliss, i hope your journey is peaceful without them taking the piss