By the Brotherhood of Man

Who are you, friend? 
Why do you know these things I don't? 
 How come you here? 
 Is there a space to fill I won't? 
In separate

            times, does autumn come unseen, 
            or is it me? Am I 
            too new, too green? 

The questions asked by the brotherhood of man 
Or the sisterhood of woman, either one; 
Do I know? Do I ever know? Or is 
This world just scattered leaves, and 

Fallen hopes?

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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