Wearing a tunic
of the colours you don't see
Bearing a smile
too heavy even for his weather-beaten face
Eyes penetrating beyond the Now
that's appalling and unkind
A distant galaxy of dreams
that only he can see
He's there at the dusty traffic lights,
in an empty train scavenging at times
Fearful of one's own footsteps
he treads cautious even in sleep
Not a name, nor a face,
not even a human to occupy the race
He just is.
A pterygium that doesn't obstruct
your vision yet
The homeless one is not out to
grab you by your fears
But to just let you know he exists
beyond the ptotic lids you have drawn
over your unwilling, diplopic eyes
A being that's not merely a blemish
on your beautiful city's aesthetics
Comments