Somewhere in this big city

Somewhere in this big city
a man lives alone
in a big old house,
of which the roof
has been rusting for a while.

There’s khaki bush and weeds
in what was once a garden
and his car
is gathering dust in the garage,
when in the early morning
he catches a bus to work.

a Runaway truck
went straight over
his wife and child
and it’s as if,
he never can live past
that event.

At times he buys flowers
before he walks through
rows of graves,
where on his own
he thinks about the
aimlessness of life.

Although he is neatly shaven
and dressed well
when he does his
assignments at work,
he almost never
talks with anyone
and no woman
or anything catches his eye
and he lives within himself
and are scared
to get a life again.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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