The World Through His Eyes

Roving crowded streets in the hopes of finding recognition; astray with no chance of altering this reality. Humans sense the desperation he radiates but rarely show an effort to understand his grim world. Subconsciously, passerbyers are in sync with the thought that someone else will help, oblivious to its repetitiveness. He who wanders has heard it all before.

So much these eyes have seen. From the brightest hour to the darkest moment in the night, there is no existing reference of time and place. His voice is mute although there is so much to be said. Existing is his only motive, giving some level of purpose to the little opportunity of a better life. 

Insignificant to society, his most personal interactions tend to be shooing hands. He is cursed to witness many harsh realities of the city alongside the lost souls who straggle with him. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The center of his struggle also provides him the upmost safety. As danger lurks the rugged calles in the night, he fades into the shadows, unseen and protected.

If lucky he will come across a giving soul or scattered rubbish along the path he wanders. His perception finds treasure in someone else's waste. Nothing is taken for granted or goes unappreciated. The personality that is most deserving of the gift that keeps on giving, has little understanding of the concept.

Blended amongst the many others who roam the streets, he must keep moving in order to survive. He is lost but never found.