Pockets light,
He graced the town with his presence.
Scared and cold,
New to a city of lights.
Try all he could,
To make ends meet,
Strived hard,
Losing sleep by each day.
Each grain,
Made him think twice,
Frail,
Skin sticking to his bones.
Sticky sides,
Didn’t sit right,
Hard floor,
Hurting his sore back.
No medicine,
For his hidden hunger,
Only a medicine,
For his beaten up soul.
Inebriants,
His only blankets,
Happy pills,
His only happiness.
Downward spiral,
He groped at the blacks and whites,
Will to survive,
Beating all in the game of life…
thryaksha 