Outcast (Sonnet)

Out casted from my own tribe,

I weep in a sorrow state,

For no foolery or bribe,

Could be pleaded to reverse my fate.


The moon shineth bright,

The sun, not so much,

The cosmos reversed,

Eyes such and such.


NOTE: This is for 4th April. I had set this on a scheduled time for the wrong date, so it didn’t post on April 4th. 😦 I am still posting it though, for April 4. I will post another poem for April 5 today too to keep up with NapoWrimo. 🙂 Gracias!


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