The man on the street is no more. He is like vapor, gone with out a trace. The man on the street has disappeared, either that or he was never there.
The man on the street lived beside you, Parked his car just behind yours
He woke up by 5am everyday to make sure there was food for his family by 6pm. The man on the street had goals, dreams and aspirations, But sadly never had any “connections.”
The man on the street was imperfect, but he was honest. All he wanted to do was put a smile on his daughters face and send money to his parents to repay all their grace. But he was caught between the Rock and a hard place. With no help comming from you, me or even empty space.
The man on the street was robbed of his dignity. That was way before the national currency began experiencing a certain epilepsy. The man on the street watched his dreams run away and the smile on his daughters face would no longer stay.
The man in the street trusted us all. Those of us with loud and soft voices and deep wallets, he hoped he would take him out of his toil. He would cast his vote in 2011, but would not do so in 2015. Because the man on the street was no more He had been killed in one too many bombings and nobody ever knew his name.