Behind the prison bars of mind, There is a caged thing in my breast, A numb and hungry thing that beats -- I cannot let it stop to rest. We are two wanderers alone, My heart and I -- my soul is dead! It could not live in poverty. It had to have its shrine and God, A prayer, a bird-song overheard. In vain I tried to catch and hold The beautiful for which I cried; But eyes which are so hunger filled Are blind. Far better that it died. Upon the midnight city street, We walk and feel the beating rain; An old man passed with halting steps, My heart is beating with his cane. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR REMEMBERING HOW TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU by JAMES GALVIN MY FAMILIAR DREAM by PAUL VERLAINE EPIGRAM: EHEU FUGACES by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM MOONRISE IN THE ROCKIES by ELLA (RHOADS) HIGGINSON |