PilgrimA Poem by Abdul Batin Osman Bey About always being on the move, also sorry for the color scheme at the time it seemed cool now a bit a lame. I am the mover Always in motion My surroundings always a blur A constant stream of image’s,
noises, and faded places I have no home Born a rambler Romany One of the Ben Ishmael tribe Moving, moving, moving We are not meant to rest Why? Did you ask this? You must know The simplicity of it all is as
such This world offers nothing We know this rock will never be
our home So we must move Always moving Keeping our ways in tacked Never settling for the others Never displacing ourselves We are who we are from birth to
death Death brings us home Death gives us rest Death brings us to that place
before our birth Until then I must move A constant pilgrim A constant immigrant © 2012 Abdul Batin Osman BeyAuthor's Note
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Abdul Batin Osman BeyCambridge, MAAboutIt is said that if Johnny Thunders and Janis Joplin were to have a child then have him to be raised by the unwanted aspects of Society while having him schooled in Timbuktu that person would be me. I.. more..Writing
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