T R A N S P I R E D

22~ An Old Man

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A N   O L D   M A N

An old man passing by,

A bag of onions in his hand,

His back bend, eyes dim,

As he stares far ahead,

A wave of emotions possess me,

All lonely and sad,

On impulse yet helpless,

I look back at the old man,

Feeling his emotions almost as my own,

I send a silent prayer above,

Stood there silent and still,

I didn’t know what to do,

It was a conflicting decide,

As I stared at the passing figure,

Now almost a tiny dot,

All I felt was regret and remorse,

At having able to do nothing by,

From the deepest of my heart,

I wished to my Lord,

The old man gets the happiness he deserves,

For none are worth the sufferings….

Eyes wet, a heavy feeling in my heart,

As the image of his lone-stricken face,

Yet comes by again…

An old man passing by,

A bag of onions in his hand,

They made me cry,
(Referring to the onions)

For the man was happy not wry…

It was just an image of my mind,

A small dot now, completely gone,

I willed myself to walk away,

Heavy shoulders, head bent..

I recalled how lonely he felt…

Lines marred his forehead..

That faraway look…