Home Articles / Poems THE MAN IN A CYCLE



It starts as though without a form,

And then it grows to a mustard size

It breathes, it feeds and then it takes the shape

Of a human being in its tiniest form.

Within months of a ten less by one

It frets, kicks and pleads to see the light.

And affirm, its host must

And grant the request with painful joy.

Here’s a man just hatched


Crawl, he did; cry, he did.

Walk, he did and laugh he did.

As carefree a life as the soothing breeze

Giving the cheek a kiss of life,

He lives with so much glee.

But then, the time did come for him to know

That greasy hands call forth oily mouths.

Then, he toils and grows.

Through a great effort, another man emerges

On a journey, in need of a second,

Who, walking beside him, would surely make the journey worth his while.

There! We have a man just matched.


Responsibilities have come and

Priorities must follow

He toils the more and more and more

To see that ends meet and on time too

In making a living for his half and those they have hatched.

He may expect a reward or no.

May live to be adorned with gray white hair

And, climb the ladder of olive branches.

However, the time shall come when,

He, in whose palm lies his all

Will give the call and go, he must.

Shout, cry, and wail, we shall do.

Questions, we shall ask and for answers we shall get nothing.

We shall say,

‘What a man to be dispatched’




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