The Diminishing Youth

He was a Man in his youth
Covered His Manhood
With a musty piece of Cloth
Dangling hair with mud and dust
Darkened skin with so many scars
As He strolls sheepishly on the road
Came to a standstill
Bent over a muddy pot-hole on the road
Greedily drank the muddy water
And quenched his thrust
He looks so despondent
In a dismay I thought
Once He would have been somebody’s Son
Surrounded with so many Loved Ones
Now he belongs to non
Lonely under the Burning Sun…



-Tiny W. Sahabandu

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