Thursday, January 13, 2011

The Death of a Tramp

By Gaurav Parab

A nameless drifter grabs his chest in terror
A life, less trial more error
Opportunities were few, so he naturally took none
Maybe a priest or maybe he was a party member’s son

How does a roof feel over one’s head?
How do you sleep in your own bed?
What joy does a kind word bring?
The tramp felt nothing, he knew nothing.

He sneezes; perhaps he has an hour to go
Under his last moon at eleven below
He wraps his frail arms around the stolen coat
He hears his last sighs escape his throat

Does he feel even a moment of regret?
His missing existence, like a friend never met
His eyes look out in peace, it now seems
For the tramp lived his life in his dreams

The most colorful dreams with palaces around his head
The wisest words that were loudly read
Courts of justice, and beautiful friends
In his dreams, the tramp did what he intends

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"For the tramp lived his life in his dreams" ...

i often wish life supported ctrl+Z
and may be i'd live my life over, again
make the correct choices
totally ignore the wrong paths at the crossroads
if life supported 'undo'

i'd life my life.. once. while still being me. in this life.
and not in my dreams. and not in my head

and i wud not have been brought to write all this on a stanger's blog.

Well written Gaurav. As always. You touch people's hearts and minds in ways you..probably know.

Good Luck.