Hustler
The sun is really high and hot;
his three-day shirt is all wet.
He carry academic papers in his file;
every day he walks for more than a mile,
looking for a way to get a decent job,
and save him from political mob.
Sometimes he wonders why he was born;
looking down at his shoes so torn.
Pain and misery is visible on his face,
as he toils hard on the rat race.
His hands are so strong and rough,
adapted to the world so tough.
He lived alone – he’s an orphan;
sometimes he tries out heroin,
to forget his childhood trauma,
and focus on life’s daily drama.
In his heart he carries a song,
which he sings when days are long…..
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