How oft do you see men walking through the streets having eyes begging to be met.
How oft do you see them roaming half-naked, not showing but showcasing their open wounds.
Not clanking money in their pockets or whatever vessel they hold, but walking shamelessly, barefoot, with something below the waist. And with it they are at rest.
How oft do you follow them, like people on Instagram. These men have layers of skin above their own. But that’s just dirt, not filter.
In their hearts, they have stories to tell. Stories, well life rather the S word, of bad deeds they have done or have been a victim of.
How oft do you walk, and that’s all you do. To find these men.
Well look around, they are everywhere, begging something or the other in their own stubbornness.
Some just trim their beards, some growing. Some smelling like flower pot. Some offended, keeping a frown. Some looking you straight in the eye.
While some just wearing all that’s inside of all that’s left and walk giving you creeps.