A traveller with no place to be,
Walking alone, bound yet free,
With no one to talk or to listen,
The dirt on his clothes is all we see.
Has nothing to lose and everything to gain,
Our traveller who walks in search of grain,
Hides his tears behind his smile,
Whenever you apply love to his pain.
Weak physically but heart is strong,
Not many know how to sing his song,
Shows love to all who are kind,
Something where even the rich go wrong.
Strangely beautiful, yet sad,
Dirty clothes on a remarkable lad,
Who invests his everything when shown respect,
A rich beggar, sane or mad?
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Nice title; poor but rich.
Amazing poetry.
Wish you all the best for your blogging journey…
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