He walks alone; faking a smile.
Deep within are pairs of agony and grief; but still he
smiles walking down the pavement.
He stops, turning around are unfriendly friends;
they wave at him camouflaging a smile.
He looks away and continues.
He has moved thus far, still no one.
He hears the birds chipping; the cats crying
and water falling, the queen of the night’s flower arouse him;
bringing him to a rush of impulse and pleasure.
But still he wanders.
They have stabbed him twice, his closest pals
they set him up, they slander him behind the
scene and still rush to him with cold hands.
He has decided to stay firm; a man of his own-
to walk through the valley alone; A Beautiful
“The calmness of the silent man, should not be