I roam these endless winding roads in search of my own happiness. 

My destination is unknown. All that I have are these rags on my anorexic frame. My mouth is as dry as a parched leaf. Men stare at me as if I have some dreadful disease.

On my feet, I have no shoes or sandals because I can’t even afford that. I have no one to contact because I have no mobile phone. 

I don’t know when last I went home or seen my parents. 

I don’t even know if they are still alive or living at that same address.

Men chased me away as if I was some wild animal. 

You can see most parts of my body because I can’t hide it no matter how hard I try. 

In truth, I am appalled by it. 

I can’t recall when last I had a decent meal.

My only food is sometimes stale bread from those filthy bins which you place outside on certain days. 

I even converse with myself how sad is that. 

My whole body is covered in layers of dry skin, filth and grime.

Bath time? What is that I ask myself? 

It’s something I never heard of except when I was growing up. 

Yes, I am homeless not by choice but by mans cold and unforgiving heart. 

They crucified this gentle machine.

They only used me when they needed me.   

Now I am one broken sapling swaying in the unforeseen winds. 

I can’t even shed a tear or show some emotion. 

My tears dried up a long time ago. 

Even Mother Nature has no sympathy for me. 

I am a prisoner unto myself. 

Like an orphan, you have abandoned me. 

I pray to the heavens, but it seems as if the doors of mercy were closed for good. 

How do I pick up the shattered pieces of my life?  

I was once strong but now I am physically and spiritually weak. 

The flesh on my bones is slowly withering away.

Yes, indeed I am the crucified machine.