His name was not in the paymaster's list and the whole wage has deducted for his food & lodging.
Where he goes to compensate?
He sleeps under the huge thorny money tree
But the bitter fruits are not ripen yet.
Though he waits for the coming season
Yet he has to re-validate his torn season-ticket.
The shadow of hard times to come falls across the lines of this sad poem. The old saying, 'What cannot be cured, must be endured' comes to mind for some reason. Write on, my friend. Warm regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Frustration and impatience underpin this plea for equal distribution of wealth in the world. Strong words penned with style. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥