HAWKER

He answers the name 

Of the ware he carries

Balanced on his head,

A load he's learnt to …

Son of some mother

With siblings here and there

A model for charity's gallery

Knowing nothing but strife.

So …

It's the last there will ever be

This fleeting space in time.

This moment so uncherished

is already …

With her hands clad in veins

She still does all we could

With mastery and ease

A mystery …

Sundays are always the most stressful day of the week. Sometimes, I wish …

It was past six. The air was less dense with the chatters of market …