Tramp Or Man.....The Wandering Homeless

A homeless tramp or is it man. no home he has or welcome clan. Years back he worked so hard. Less for self an more for ward. Mostly lost in hollow smiles. Waving then to heartless files. Draped around in tattered rags. Hugging clustered torn bags.. Mitts worn and fingers chaff. Beset in the street like riff raff. No comforting home or hearth. no place he has; and no worth. Empty vacant bleary eyes. Clustered around by the flies. Blooming then now doomed life. No holding hand, no worrying wife. Painfully stoops to rest his stuff. Shoved aside by a passing tough. Grimaces, doubles and just lies. Toys his cross; in misery sighs. No pity, prayer or tossed pence. Shall ever undo the hurt sense. (Islamabad) (May 02,2009)