always
I find myself,
caged behind
the iron window bars
To frame the beauty
of dark nights,
and vistas of an open window
and
stroke gently
the child of my cheerful dreams
Such, juvenile crime
I always do;
And
always
I find myself,
caged behind
the iron window bars,
occasionally to be laughed at, by
a raven, that
slide a shadow pass
outside my pillow view
flapping wings of bat
ever silent ever fearful
To accuse myself
for any crime;
Let that be a boon,
to shovel beauty of my dreams:
My juvenile crime!
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