Born out of the womb from society’s shadow,
Lurking in the mist of pity and anger,
Fleeing from hatred, and ignorance,
This outcast shall go unseen, unheard.

His heart still beats, warm blood still flows,
But dark intent has cast a shadow on this man,
Soon his blood will run cold, his anger grows
And deeper into the shadows he goes.

What drove you to such loneliness?
The vagabond does not reply,
But a single tear falls from his face,
And drops into a puddle, merged with ‘society’.

Perhaps his past still haunts him,
He runs but the shadow always catches him,
He is left cold, bewildered and angry,
Everyone around him walks through him.

He will always be alone.
 
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