(courtesy of Google.com)

 I was strolling on the empty street. Heart begins to pound, lifeless and bound to grave stalker staring wearily. Those tears had been living with them for years.The grudge of emptiness succumb. Every streets demands attention- but draws nerve wracking stare that led you into giving up. Sternness'  is all over the place.

The middle aged man seems living his whole life in misery begged penny to buy food. Stinky and poor. Passers care no less about it, his presence is daunting  anyone to passed by his way. His whole body is coffin-picturesquely engaging. I guess there's only one creature left who hasn't signed the magna carta.
Beyond those, his struggle to live is amazing. I  am peeking too much attention on the reactions of many, their awkwardness and stubborn makeups to hide problems and loneliness within it. He smiled and say "thank you" as I handed him 50 bucks- it is too much for a beggar, I think so. But he deserved it. His labor should be paid off, he is a man of courage. A man of steel, sitting all day long- hands upward waiting for the clinging of penny, each sound made them alive, even pave way to strut more effort, so when night comes they would have food to eat.



Riffraff began to huddle. It's his time to double the effort. To double his work. He needs to earn more, to buy food, to buy clothes. Saving to sustained for the next battle. His eyes is full of hope, love and adoration to the world. He is a man of courage, fighting to survive. Battling to see the new morning and to celebrate the coming of the dark. His loneliness is unbeatable, hence I see no reasons to mourn and cry. His standard should be followed by moi.

He is beaten by tiredness. He decided to lay down,closed his eyes and feel the sweetness of the air that lifted his spirit up to the heaven, in which he could feel satisfaction and grace. Too much satisfaction- too much grace.

When he woke up- it is another battle.