He always wore a black leather pair of shoes, which his legs are decorated so,
He always wore ironed clothes
Which became a part of his life culture.
His shoulders always carried invisible
Weight of Responsibilities, and burdens
He still walked silently without
Uttering a word nor complained.
His eyes are a mirror which wants
The world arranged in certain way
Which holds the portrait of
The dark world he lives in.
In the evening he returns with
His thoughts unleashed beyond the seas,
His pale lips and worn out eyes
Body with burden ocean weight.
He return in dark to his room,
Hoping a way to find his solace,
His thoughts doomed and his eyes shut
He finally succeeded in his day rat race
Untill the Sun strikes his windows the next morning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem