…… My Icon

…… My Icon

I notice a man roaming alone in the city
With his old rugged bag and shabby clothes
On the way he finds laughing alone
Without reason he talks alone
As if he wants to express his anguish
That he has swelled up in his mind
He must be cursing to his own situations
Might be he is in search of affection
That he has mislaid along with his days
He must be happy and living a good life
But now he’s nothing except his agony
It seems that he has amass all his bliss
That’s why he holds it firmly all the time
Tries to defend himself with his shabby stuff
Searching for better shelter there?
I notice him everyday in my usual day out
Sometime I found my self in his position
Carrying a rugged bag and shabby clothes
As if I am there in his disposition
Cursing to the situations from my Icon