Doc.

 You walk in shuffles, in your white shirts and suspenders

hair black and straight, full in a straggly afro

features small and fragile,

hands effeminate..

In this jungle State, you are a walking magnet

for the predators who come in different forms;

the dubious, the crafty, the downright evil;

I fear for you..

But your mind is astute, like a serpent, 

the depth of your intellect is astounding,

quoter of Purfrock, Greek mythologies and Yeats,

What is your story, 

why leave the security in the twilight years,

to survive in a place where even the strong falter

Behind the fragility and intellect, lie years too hard for you to face

the neglected children, estranged from you,

the cheap women who use you,

the annoying pseudo-intellectuals who annoy you,

the family you left behind in security who never visit you.

You cling to the longings of the past, that have ruined you..

Sir...its so hard to see, a lost life, wandering on the heated tarmac..

defeated, yet finding little pleasure in purchased happiness