The Lonely Man

He sits by the roadside in the scorching hot sun,
Waiting for kindness, from the heart of anyone.

Silent, quiet, voiceless, no words said in vain.
Dark eyes weary, full of misery and pain.

He scrambles on deformed limbs, crawling in the dust,
To take an offering thrown by a hand outthrust.

A Beggar, vagrant, outcast from society,
A destitute man, searching for humanity.

A child of God is he, like all the others.
Discarded, exiled by sisters and brothers.

People scurry past him hauling their daily load,
Still he sits patiently by the side of the road.