Page 25 - My Creative Writing Portfolio
P. 25
25
OH! THIS OLD MAN
Oh! This old man,
Walking fast, looking sad,
As if a cloud hides his face,
Bearing sorrow deep within his soul.
Hair uncombed, clothes untidy,
No ornaments, no vanity—
Serious in mood, gentle in voice,
He moves like an ascetic.
Where could he be from?
Grey hair, thin frame, brown skin—
Is he from India?
Clever, perhaps cunning too,
Yet shy—keeping distance
When a group of women passed,
And yet, he smiled at them.
When he smiled—
It was like a crescent moon
Rising in a dark sky.
