The Bohemian

The Bohemian

Long hair, messy beard

With a bowl in hand roaming amongst the city

Walked in a manner a lion does, with the grace of a peacock.


Talking to the greatest of the kings and the miserable lepers.

Singing gibberish songs,

Stirring such a sense of poetry

That no one could,


The bohemian

Lives away from the city

For he dwells among the amongst the wolfs and dogs.


The frittery rich laugh at him,

For he is the higher man,

He laughs in unison with them,


For he is called poor by everyone,

But only he knows that he is the richest of them.


He needs companions to laugh with while on his journey,

He needs warriors of the light,

Not coward sheep

He ignites a fire,

To give spirits warmth.


Once a child met him,

Who are you? Asked the kid in an innocent voice

For I am everything, so are you

So is the dog sitting beside me,

So is the water in this bowl,

So is the wind running through this angelic face of yours,

So are the candles that light up the night city

This is all you,


The child smiled,

So did the bohemian,

Bowed; the stars and the moon.


Written By- Vihaan Dhir

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