He is slow,
This on him, is as white as a snow.
And so,
He might get a little late to reap what he sow.
He is an over thinker,
Or maybe a free thinker.
The weight attached, he is a sinker.
In the urban they call him a shrinker.
He is however certain,
Of what he has to attain.
And should they come to a close, the curtains.
He is full surety, the light he has seen sustains.
I do not know who he is But wonderfully characterised.... He is an over thinker, Or maybe a free thinker.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Or maybe He is a free spirited Thinker. Thanks for your comment.