Poetic Verses
Walking Alone
He was walking quite slowly
In the heat of the day
His clothes were in tatters
And his hair had turned gray.
A ragged old jacket
Hung down from his back
And all that he owned
Was in a knapsack.
With his haggard appearance
And uneasy gait
I could only imagine
His eventual fate.
And as he trod onward
I likened the man
Somewhat of a pilgrim
In a faraway land.
But maybe that highway
Is what he calls home
Where he finds true contentment
In walking alone.
In the heat of the day
His clothes were in tatters
And his hair had turned gray.
A ragged old jacket
Hung down from his back
And all that he owned
Was in a knapsack.
With his haggard appearance
And uneasy gait
I could only imagine
His eventual fate.
And as he trod onward
I likened the man
Somewhat of a pilgrim
In a faraway land.
But maybe that highway
Is what he calls home
Where he finds true contentment
In walking alone.
