MY KIND OF WORLD.

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To many places in my lifetime I have been,

So many faces along the way I have seen,

Some wrinkled from all the travails of life,

Some wrinkled from the great life already lived,

But all in all,the faces am yet to see I still yearn for.

 

Up and down along the busy roads,

No matter the season but with different reasons,

Everyday I see all sizes of feet shuffling,

Maybe to catch up or may be ditch someone,

And in it all I see crazy feet running after time blindly.

 

In small groups I see people congregate,

I laugh as yes they are communicating,

But I wonder with the shouting and screaming,

Or is it that the population has grown deaf?

Yet in hushed tones of others we still talk ill?

Scorning at them silently I wish for more healing words.

 

Forgotten by the rest of the world some are,

Shunned from our major streets they are,

Find them under the bridges where the filthy river passes,

In their own niche they are their own community,

Despite our contorted faces at their sight,they too are a part of us.

 

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