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
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