A Man And His Woman Poem by Abrar Ajaz Wani

A man who has no clues,
Of life and harmony,
What a luck he carries?
Never is he abandoned
-by miseries and misfortunes
He is dead before time.
He is like a flower,
he has no color,
No fragrance.
Deep inside he's dead!
He keeps a cloak over him,
To hide the scratch he got,
Onto the hands of time
…He owns nothing.
But is a pure beggar.
A beggar of your street.
O Beloved, hold not him.
He is sick, abnormal, be hold!
He stammers even!
He is not well-to-do,
Let him go off!
Why'd you take his bad luck?
You are happy enough dear!