I was with a friend towards the metro,
Everyone was busy. It was a crazy strife.
Sounds heard were then sounds retro.
Everything was a blur. Including life.

Not far from the platform I saw a man.
He walked. He slumped. He tripped. He fell.
For shock I would go, but for him I ran.
In such a state he was. No words could tell.

I still hear his panting. I echo them now.
His eyes full of glare and ever more tired,
This grief was more than reason could allow,
And there I was knelt beside thus enquired:

“You are hurt. Let me help you. Please, let me.”
“Am on my way to an interview. Haven’t eaten days”
For drooping words could tear my soul as we,
This alone I could not disown him in sorry ways,

Though pity of mine no food I had could restitute,
Alas my thoughts were with him for greater flight,
My angst in earnest for company made for statute
Resolve to bring this man to a greater light.

Having called for others in this man’s aid,
Having learnt as yet his homeless state,
Neither man nor woman nor child to bade
Some comfort to bring him happier as late.

Mine eyes fluttered like wings from water flown,
Right or left, stared or not, in contact or not,
Neither of which would prevent another man’s frown,
In what city, world nor universe did ere sought,

A simple act of kindness I kindle here and there,
I stood him up, walked him to the train and held,
To this we reached with friend and foe the lair,
This necessary evil of work to which we were held,

For I deeply wanted to go elsewhere for a concert,
But this man was surely a song worth to sing through,
And through him I shall give him the voice to assert,
Lest silent voice in a crowd of loud masses is new,

To ensure their ignorant bliss is but vain purpose,
For bought of lunch and food this man received
Known as Derek, in whom I give the world to propose
Greater change for kindness where none deceived,

In goal accomplished was his job secured,
In smiles fought against depressed compound,
In more accomplished was dinner prepared,
For light in this horrid storm was found,

Nor the last I shall see more of him,
I shall see him again to remark how trained,
This support we give is lasting him,
The hours we give are the minutes gained.

Life, Poetry, Works
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