I met a young man, he was hitch-hiking, cold, begging for a ride, so I stopped, he got in, his story instantly told, he could not easily hide, a life of hardship, though I did’t know why, until he told me, as the miles slipped by, of a life that would make me, a grown man, want to cry, but in his eyes I looked, I saw, not a frown, but a glorious smile, his life burdened, though it may seem, was to him, a life worth all its trial.
12
Jan
12
naykdpoet 
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