Amidst the throngs of bustling shoppers
alone on a bench , the vagrant sits
distant and silent.
A man withdrawn from this world,
exudes an air of deep reflection
and emanates a rancid odour.
A fetid recluse.
Are his dragons too daunting
to feel peace, wrapped in solitude
he retreats into his foul smelling cloak
and shuffles away,
oblivious to the stares
of people giving him a wide berth.
The bench is empty. The stench lingers.