The man so solitary

Passing by the arcades, always I did behold
The man with a brown sack, hanged on his wobbly back.
Was in his senility, but shined his persona
Not by his white beard, but a soul full of happy aroma.

When came a simper, he returned a good leer
Hiding his inner pains, showering goodwill's rains.

Yeah I was one of those, who fortuned such a beam
By the one so lone, all along the agonies.

He fed on at shrines, sometimes at synagogues
At times of some silver, got a poor meal with griller.

Something was there unique, 'cause defying the pains
Giving cheers with no gains, was a challenge to seek.

I wondered and asked, and then I grasped
That he was a lone heart, with none around to regard.

Isn't it amazing, he was a gradater indeed
Lost his kith and kin, and remained a man so solitary.

I watched him pass by, talking to the sky
I watched him fight with, the harsh world's try
And I watched him smile, with every deep sigh.