A weary traveler

a vagabond,

a man with a 

heart of a gypsy 

and etched 

with a bohemian soul


I wandered 

nooks and corners of the world

flaunting my fears and anxiety

to someone anyone

who would just sit next to me

and spend those 

flickering golden 

moments of time

to melt and cover 

my tattered soul

 in the body

which is sublime


This unending quest

my parched self

has been wandering for eons

searching for that break

the humdrum of the moment

tipping off the sidewalk 

and the tenacity of life

holding my hands 

tightly with a sweaty palm


As I cross the roads

as my soul laments

drops are falling

and getting lost in that 

little box of tin


A twinkle in my bleared eyes

and an occasional 

gaze from the passerby

has hooked me to the 

life forever


I fight those cold 

souls stirring breeze

testing the tenacity of my puny life


The dissonance of the

walking footsteps

keep my marred soul alive

my epitaph is etched

on the corner of that lonely road

which lost its identity 

at the crossroads of life.


Photo by John Moeses Bauan on Unsplash



28 thoughts on “Vagabond

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