Vagabond

A sad poem about a man losing everything

Vagabond

 

Blade in hand, I walk the path along, because I am a vagabond.

 

I walk on despite the pain, despite the poor souls I've slain because I am a killer

 

I lost my noble right, my political might because I am a vagabond.

 

I was chased from the dojo I studied from and lost my sword arm, to a swarm of samurai, because I am a ronin.

 

I lost my way, and came back home, because I am a vagabond.

 

I was blamed for a crime I would never commit, because I am a victim.

 

I didn't kill him, they were wrong, I was just a vagabond.

 

There was no one to stand up for me since my father died, and my family ate stolen food because I was a thief.

 

I have no purpose, no job, only a sword and a burden on my back because I am a vagabond.

 

I fled my hometown before they could catch me, because I am a coward.

 

I lost a sister, they killed my mom, because I was a vagabond.

 

I like to think that I am strong, fighting from dusk till dawn, until I fall asleep from exhaustion. I'm running from my execution, because I am a coward.

 

Blade in hand, no one can stand against me. I am a vagabond.

 

I’m out of willpower, I can’t fight on, there is no reason to live, because I am forgotten, unwanted.

 

I’ll die alone in the fields of Japan, with no one bury me, no one to love me, because I am a vagabond.

Author's Note

Any criticism is welcome.


I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.