Poetry-Thing Thursday: Stranger

The stranger is strange
when just out of view,
comparing the range,
of each bread loaf’s hue.
I’ve no idea,
just what I’m to do,
when I see the stranger,
with bread made for two.

The stranger is strange,
when hidden by night,
you fear their footsteps,
and so revel in light.
When once they pass,
without second sight,
you see the stranger,
means not to fight.

The stranger is strange,
‘specially in the full-moon,
they’ve bright whitened teeth,
a view with no boon.
Yet look through their eyes,
just a little to gloom,
you feel the stranger,
at home in your room.

We are the strangers,
alone on the path,
that each of us is asked,
to walk without wrath,
But sometimes we forget,
start a blood bath,
of strangers and strangeness,
from poor mental math.

Fear not the stranger,
who smiles at your face
no matter the danger,
we’re all the same race,
for strangeness is Human,
and so too’s our place;
acceptance and tolerance, compassion and grace,
for a stranger seems strangest,
when you greet with a mace.

Advertisements

One thought on “Poetry-Thing Thursday: Stranger

  1. “You feel the stranger alone in your room” could mean so much. Fighting our own demon? Being introspective? Or just plain spooky. I am behind on reading you and I am trying to catch up. I appreciate you dropping by on my page. Have a nice evening ☺️

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s