Long-beared, reclining on

The platform, with tattered,

Torn shirt, from an early morning 

Jogg, in the joggers' park

Having a queer big-eye, with

A smile distant from his fizzog.

He gave an outré face, to have 

Been seen somewhere, his 

Conviction to survive evident, 

Yet bereft of hope for a morrow.

He stays immobile the whole day, sitting

In the same spot, a thought to

Move never arises; he

Remains tenacious to his 

Ethos, staid and tacit. 

Many gazed at him, some 

Never disquiet his existence.  

A few offered pennies, 

Insufficient for a day's food. 

Though he sleeps with an empty

Stomach at times, his life still

Endures, flowing without a sigh,

Impassive at the sunrise or the 

Sunset, the night never allures

Him, his dreams never visit to Inspire.

He must have borne enough

To be glued to a place 

He never would have chosen 

Or perhaps a place where 

He lost everything. Beholding his

Daily struggle, his eyes

Hold deep pain layered within,

Hiding from the world, 

Still breathing,

Living to breathe!!!

By Orbindu Ganga

From: India

Instagram: ordinary_is_beautiful

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/orlando.blake.5036