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July 18, 2011

    Poetry

    The Man on the Street

    There goes the manWho talks to himselfMuttering nonsenseOut loud; not under his breath He looks dishevelledHis hair out of placeClothes all tatteredSunken eyes on his sallow face He waves his armsAs if swatting a flyBut the reality isThere’s no one standing by People avoid himOut on the streetsTeens think he’s funnyWhile kids get scared and weep They call him crazyThey think he’s nutsBut none approach himAs they don’t have the guts What they do not knowIs why he behaves suchAnd…

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