A Write A-101

Written by: Karen van Wyk

I knew a wayward man; 
His eyes shadowed with defeat.
His sunken lips and hollow cheeks, 
mapping his journey.

He cannot reach, nor walk a step, 
his will has met it's match.
Lost to his own deceit, 
to liars and ransoms!

His life disguised by tainted thoughts, 
and to his world he let.
A barrower, a beggar, a thief,
he challenges for an allotted fee.
His knees buckle!  
His weighted heart!

A dirty dollar, a euro, a yen,
it fits the same in pockets of men.
The soles of his feet burn,
the scortched path before him, is churned.