VAGABONDS, VICTIMS OF HUMAN EVIL ——————————————-
You saw not your shoes in the hallway
So you soon left your home and wife
Your nights in car now, days at work
In winter you knocked on my door
Your face unfamiliar fading and pale
Accent and name I know somewhere
My tenant, I listened to your footsteps
They were a sign you still aren’t dead
We spend lonely night on Christmas Eve
We sat and warming up by my little stove
Our some experiences each other we told
I didn’t admit why I about you so worried
I was glad to see a woman you visiting
You bakes cake, radio music was playing
Once came to you two your adult children
You got apartament, moved out in spring
Why did you knock on my door, not others
Did you were brought by your uncle’s ghost
Your uncle knocked here forty years ago
From the land of slavery here he was come
His face unfamiliar, pale and fading
His body was exhausted, very sick
Then my parents took good care of him
But he suddenly in the night quietly died
Maybe your uncle’s for future dreams
Called you and brought then to my door
His unfulfilled dreams, at all not known
Like so many unfortunate vagabonds
Vagabonds, victims of human evil
Their dreams and prayers don’t perish
God gives them back, they are around
Like of angels choirs music and songs
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I have lived in Poland since I was born. I am a graduate of the Jagiellonian University in Krakow, Psychology.
I worked as a psychologist with children and adolescents. Now she works with terminally ill people. For years he has been painting pictures, composing music and above all writing. I write poems, short stories, essays and fairy tales for children