THE LIFE AND DEATH OF A COMMON MAN-

His face is unknown, his voice is unheard and his walk does not leave footprints in the past,
He does not stand out, he’s one among millions and no one knows how many years does he last.
His problems are petty and often overlooked when compared to important matters at hand,
For he is considered a vagabond in debt who roams on our country’s land.
He votes, pays taxes and abides by the rules but he knows it’s all in vain,
For helpless he surely is and he knows he can turn to no one to ease his pain.
Every four years he hopes of change in the system that neglects him,
But he’s unaware he’s already a part of a system that considers him at the brim.
Nine to five and six days a week is his job and he eagerly waits for Sunday to rest,
Contribute to society a little each day to progress is what he does best.
Strength in numbers is a truth he knows but unity is absent in times to revolt against the law,
He knows it’s not his companions fault but a basic human thinking’s flaw.
There will be a day when he will have the power to change but it’s a distant dream,
For today he is captured in a glass bowl and no one but himself can hear his own screams.
So he walks everyday supporting the system that doesn’t consider him a part of the plan,
A system that never did care for the life nor the death of this faceless, nameless common man.

From a distance they would look like two figures,
or one,
surrendered to grief.

Wrapped up in one another to escape the rain.
Their tiny umbrella allowing heavy drops to fall,
Surreptitiously sliding down their back,
Their faces,
Their arms.

"My feet are soaked" he groaned,
She tilted her head back and laughed.
Their eyes met and a wicked grin replaced his pout.
They could not frown together.

They watched the rain, no longer fighting it off,
She paddled in her socks, feeling alive,
allowing the rain to slowly cello-tape,
their sodden, shivering bodies together.

They were peaceful.
A sound struggled through the rain.
As she gingerly pressed her head against his chest,
music pierced her ears,

Joy washed over her,
with force the rain could not compete with,
as she recognised the song, the band.

“Just like the movies.” She whispered.
clutching him closer,
"Just like the films”

The music escaped from your headphones,
but I like to say it came from your heart.