Trampling down a rambling way,

I stumbled into what I’d say

Is nothing short of night and day

To one like me who’s in the fray.


One might say I was not gay,

But would be wrong about me.

I like to play most every day

With whomever I come to see.


Would you like to follow me

About this dingy city?

There’s not much to catch one’s eye.

There is nothing pretty.


Almost every person here

Remains alone sometimes I fear.

Always needing someone near

To speak so softly in their ear.


Would you like to talk to them,

Be their audience or their friend?

Would you care to spend a while,

Hearing of their times of trial?


I can say right here and now,

It is not fun out in the sun,

One feels one is about to drown

In nothingness, it weighs a ton.


Pushing one down below the waves,

One claws and kicks to try to save

Oneself from all the bitter things

This life sometimes to us brings.


Is there hope, you chance to ask?

Maybe so for some.

But I’m not counting chickens unhatched.

I’m one prone to run.


Out of here I bolt with speed,

Leaving things behind I need.

Never caring what comes to play

With my mangled spirit today.


I will find something new.

I will discover a kind of clue.

Will there be a happy end

To my strife, you might portend?


I don’t know what will come,

But I’ll continue fighting on.

There is no point for blaming some.

It is I that must get things done.



Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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