This is while I am in haste towards a better life,
Leaves behind my wit and humour in that cosy bag,
Which after a while on that train can never gain thought;
So far I travel and into a whole new world amazed,
Clearly his blood did boil yet never thought he was there,
And so dead as he in his own circle that never travel,
But at the next stop I found a man without his own asset
For which that asset left him but of life and happiness,
Brought me closer to him as he did unto mine,
To have lifted him on my frail shoulders and carried him anew;
His life almost dead, yet blood never boiled; yet still alive,
And sat him down through what his life gives me a new story,
While he slipped away pursuant to his life and knows better,
The former man brought me my lost bag; and then found myself
Within the sight of all things through me as I did never before,
Again I boarded the next train to my next destination erelong.

Category:
Poetry, Works
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