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Poem

In the forgotten corners of the country side, where shadows dance,  
A homeless poet, wandering with words, in a sorrowful trance,  
No home to shelter, just the moon as a friend,  
Whispering secrets in the night, where sorrows bend.  

"Come, walk with me," the moon softly calls his name,  
Guiding his steps, chasing away the silent shame,  
Back to a time when the world was kind,  
When a poet's heart was an open book, a sanctuary to find.  

Eyes that once sparkled with dreams unfurled,  
Now reflect the scars of a harsh, unforgiving world,  
In his verses, his faith he holds to and hope still shines,  
The homeless poet, weaving magic in his lines.  

The moon listens, a silent, faithful friend,  
As night fades into dawn, their journey never to end,  
Through the maze of words, they wander free,  
A homeless poet and the moon, in celestial harmony.

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