#WritcoPoemPrompt22
He drops on the sandy folds,
Of a deathly bed,
A lost traveler of a mighty desert,
Parched throat, cracked skin,
He is his own Messiah,
Or in partial his own God.
Under his own God damned will,
he continues to fight,
and stand for what he believes in.
The man has just hit 30 years old,
and life,
had already took its toll,
under A bridge,
he lived,
ever since he had been,
A 14 year old kid,
A troll,
He was born not to fit in,
An outcast slash misfit ass,
troublesome in nature,
it's only been in his nature,
his only friend has been nature,
so the Earth,
is the only thing he will not trash,
he had never learned to read,
and the guy he can't write,
but wise he is,
like he has lived two century's,
People who do not fear him,
and will engage the drifter in conversation,
leave with A gift...