The Lost Children by Jonathan Beale

Every evening theirs is the trap
Through the perdition of the day
To avoid past occasions
Of error and error.
Lost time never to be regained
I used to watch them…
As they drifted into
the nights cool air.
Down In the Bullring
(a hangout for the homeless)
They were all seeking
Seeking, something.
And they too were
being sought.
In among the shadows
of a Dantesque world.
Good old Anthony appeared
And lead them on
“To where?”
“To where?”
they needed to be.
At least for tonight.

Jonathan Beale
Jonathan Beale has poems published in Penwood Review, Danse Macabre, Poetic Diversity, Down in the Dirt, Mad Swirl, Deadsnakes, Bitchin Kitsch, Pyrokinection, Ygdrasil, Van Gogh’s Ear, The Beatnik Cowboy, The Jawline Review, Bluepepper, Jellyfish Whispers, The Outsider, and Yellow Mama. His work has appeared in such books as ‘Drowning’ (Scar publications) and ‘The Poet as Sociopath’ (Scar publications). He is currently working on his second volume. His first collection of poetry ‘The Destinations of Raxiera’ is published by Hammer & Anvil. He studied philosophy at Birkbeck College London and lives in Surrey England.

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