A Conventional Man

A Conventional Man short poem

Photo by h.koppdelaney

A foggy atmosphere everywhere,
Some vendors on street;
Few buyers moving here and there,
There,a Man returning lonely after sumptuous eat.

No gusto , No sorrow,
A complete mannequin face;
Nothing to throw,
But to just grab everything and race .

His sight expresses melancholy,
The hidden virtue of everyone;
Alas! The life goes on steadily,
With No Gusto, No Sorrow .

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