On the road near the fences and pavements

A soul walks and this is what he saw and felt and said:

The cigarette buds at every Corner of road

A spit of grass grown at every Corner of road

The bill boards with selling tag lines and slogans

Consumerism and strange names at East Busch Boulevard

Cars go by with thin air of pollution

Men go by with little air of madness

The police go by with a little abusive authority

I saw a dead bird near my feet it’s head pale and wasted

I pity his soul and wondered looking at the wings

The air is filled with nostalgia of violence from which I seek escape

No justice no peace “black lives matter” the voices still lurking in my ears

Those wings of the dead bird still afresh if I have those I would fly away from mankind forever

The chopper goes by up in the air with a little surveillance

Welcome to Orwellian world mankind it was predicted years ago

Where is this road taking me?

To the place where I used to do my labour

All burned down to ashes by the crazy mob

Who was the mob? They were ones my customers

I protested with them and wrote poetry for them and say poetry for them

They see me coming and turned their heads away

They ask me If I am okay?

They keep telling me it wasn’t them?

What difference will it make I answer them?

On the road I went place to place asking for work

Sir I am young and able bodied I have two hands and feet and energy

Sorry sir we are not hiring they say

Man should go to woods for his daily labour that would be better

The capitalist society wants to consume the individual at every cost

For every power exercise it’s will against the will of an individual

But this individual is exceptional he is free and free more than any man born in history

Free from all authority or power

Free from all that was not true

Free from all conformity

Free from all bondages and friendships

Free from his own land and people

Free from whoever comes in his way

On the road one have to save ones individuality

Nothing is more sacred than your own free will

I go home thereby by taking slow steps

For I am bound by nothing and my home is the road

I walk and keep walking while the clock says it’s 7:00 pm

The curfew is enforced at this hour

I must submit my will to authority or what?

I must keep walking for the road is my home

Catch me if you can I say

I reached home and sirens came from downtown I heard the choppers flying across the city

Damn the mass surveillance

I got inside and out and inside and out on streets

Sit with my black, white friends

We talk of music and poetry

world can go to hell now