A Diminishing Youth

He was a man in his youth. covered his manhood. With a musty piece of cloth. Dangling hair with mud and dust Darkened skin with so many scars As he strolls sheepishly down the road, came to a standstill. Bent over a muddy pot-hole on the road, Greedily drank the muddy water. and quenched his thrust. He looks so despondent. In dismay, I thought Once, he would have been somebody’s son. Surrounded by so many loved ones. Now he belongs to non. Lonely under the burning sun. Poetry by Tiny Sahabandu