Just saw a man, in the train,Have articles in hands, crying insane.Finding for man, on the train,To sell the items, for his span.
In a loud voice of him, face was dim,Asn't feeded, as he seem.Must have some sort of dream,For the members of his team.
Haven't he wished to sell all of its,A mother in mind, hunger indeed.A weeping boy, in the field,A lass, whom marriage is a dream.
I stood up erect, fast and said,Give me one or two of bread.Or gave me some books you had,I got twenty in my hand.
He called me thanks and run in rush,His face was calm and looking fresh.Doesn't help him, I did,I was a boy, thought some deep.
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Train
PoetryJust saw a man, in the train, Have articles in hands, crying insane. Finding for man, on the train, To sell the items, for his span. In a loud voice of him, face was dim, Asn't feeded, as he seem. Must have some sort of dream, For the members of his...
