GHAZAL FARKHARI

There she was, staring at him, wide eyed.

Who was he? Who was he that man?

Was he the boy who she told to a lie?

No it couldn’t be, he was a man.

Was he the star and was she the fan?

No it couldn’t be, he looked like a regular man.

Was he the long lost father whom she had been looking for?

No, it couldn’t be, she wasn’t abandoned.

Then who was he? Who was he that man?

With each slow step she took, my heart beat faster.

She came closer to him, he was disaster.

He had a ripped shirt, in front of him a can.

I studied the can, it was dirty and old.

Just like his hair, filthy with oil.

The tap on his shoulder made him look up.

Who was he? Who was he that man?

His sad blue eyes, met the girl’s green.

I watched his eyes, open in surprise.

They knew each other I knew it, I did.

The man looked at her and told her to sit.

I turned as she did, wiping my tears.

Who was he? Who was he that man?