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Is He Mad?
Who is he, lonely sitting and thinking
wandering all around as no one around
no shelter nor food but he stood
with clothes, never I used before.
Food, every afternoon I see him looking,
wondered, is he born this way?
is he really without any or made to?
but sure, should be well before.
Many passed him unnoticed after,
but a stop and look from me
might made him think me a strange,
strange really is, others think him
Mad, who Mad really are!
poem
by
P. Ashok Kumar
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