POETRY IN MOTION
The Man With No Name
He had no name
From nowhere he came
And soon he was drifting on
His visit was short
He had his sport
He doffed his hat and was gone.
But should he return
He is going to learn
When he looks at his growing lad
He left his mark
That night in the dark
And he now has a name - he's called Dad!
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The Man With No Name
The Man With No Name
