I once walked by the saddest city lane
And saw an old man there, all ragged and plain.
He sat alone by a glowing fires flaring light
An empty wine bottle before him, a sorry, sorry sight.
All he wanted was some shelter and to forget pain,
But the night would spite him that, all it’d bring is cold rain.
And I just walked on, on in wonder, on towards home
Remembering fire in his eyes with mine on the gloam.
This be a picture to ponder........well written...................
A sad picture you painted without any brush marks, excellent Sea'n........ The picture makes a tatoo in everybody's heart.
gloam's an interesting word...twilight...the time before dusk or dawn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sean - a sad, yet vivid picture you have painted here. Take care. Joey