The Madman Poem by Tony Adah
The Madman
He sat under
The lush axora
Its confetti of red petals
Painting him like a king
He sat there
Watching urban development
Opening the earth to bury pipes
That carry water
Still his own share
Will come only from puddles
He sat there
Spoke to no one but himself
Looked at no one but the machines
He sat there bowels void
Half clad and unkempt
Bearing the oblivion
That the world doled at him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/24/2024 12:02:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
