A no man,
Found in imperfection,
Of a world full of pressures
Weighing side by side;
By beliefs, he’s tied,
And No!, he wouldn’t fly.

A no man,
came sitting at the tip,
Watching his legs get licked
By the foamy sea’s tongue,
Taking what nature gives;
Trying to see the world from new eyes.

A no man,
Lived and worked and bred in the richness of lack;
Caged in own mind,
Where dogs lick his wounds that life’s caused on him;
And No!, his end wouldn’t start now.

Times always happens,
When it does- standstill,
Believe in the maker of times,
Don’t go crying, don’t go pity-partying!
It’s really a no man’s business

TM Sungs
© 2020