THE MAN NEXT DOOR

On my way back home
I saw a figure,old and lonely
Approaching with tiny,tired steps
To his cold damp room

At the end of the day
Exhausted and hungry
It's too hard to realize
The empty room waiting for him

Although he lives next door
We seldom talk
This is the way people live in city
It's like running after the wind

I don't know anything about him
Except being a fellow human being
I wonder he ever had a family
Did he ever experienced the love by heart?

I wonder why the world is so cruel for him
Lakhs of people live in this city
Loved and happy in a family
But this old man is lonely even in this huge crowd

When the whole world cuddles inside the warm blanket of sleep
This old man remains awake as the incidents
Happy and sad flash back before his eyes
There remained nothing.....just missing the glorious days




Poetry by Amar Gurung
Read 464 times
Written on 2009-08-11 at 12:16

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