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.