Feral

Feral.
He's a dirty little kid
small and wiry, hair
all matted and dull.
Covered in scabs,
no shoes on his feet.
Poor little chap.
Looks like he has just crawled from under a hedge.
Gone feral, that's what's happened to him.
Left to his own devices a scavenger he's become.
Feeding off other peoples rubbish.
His clothes are just rags, he needs a good bath,
and a hot meal.
He's a feral child, gone wild, untamed, no one to take care of him.   


Antony Slausen.
07/08/2018.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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Cunningham Avatar
August 7, 2018 at 2:48 PM
So many kids end up like that especially in war zones', powerful verse Jane.
Krutsinger Avatar
August 7, 2018 at 1:15 PM
I can relate to this in so many ways; I sometimes look like this, but have no idea what it feels like. I see this too, and it is the truth in a world that tries not to see.
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