A very long bus journey and a sleeping baby was the ideal opportunity to pull out my notebook and think and write random things. Not to mention my past time favorite, studying people and pretend I know everything about their life. Below is one of the outcomes of 'the bus'.
The drunk
The youthfulness of his face
Hid the aged old eyes
Swimming in alcohol and lost
If his stubble beard was darker he'll look years younger
I say to myself
His green coat hugged him tight
And was a shield of protection
Not just against the weather
But people and life
And the voices speaking in his head
He didn't look like a drunk
As the darkness of his skin hid it well
But he was
I say to myself
The strong smell of alcohol soaked his skin
Vacant look on those loved eyes
The bottle of vodka warming his left hand
An aura of sadness surrounding him
He was a drunk
How sad and a waste of a God created life
I say to myself
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