Cecil went to the big city.
He became homeless and broke.
No one would give him a job.
They told him that he didn't have an education.
He wondered why he needed an education.
For a job doing warehouse labor work.
But his stomach could not get full on someone else's reasoning.
He left the city and returned to the farm.
Where he could grow his own food.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good! Farm life may be hard on the muscles and sometimes of the heart- -but oh a sleeping bag in the loft is so much worthier than a rat-infested apartment or box in an alley.. I like story-poems so you get 10++ from me! ! !