Words written like scattered autumn leaves across the page bound by the solid cover of endurance
The writer writes to deaf ears and poverty knocks
The writer writes and eyes do not see
The ether of words of global connection vaporizes
No-one has time for time fleeting mirrors past years
The nib of the pen is worn
The book is opened yet closed
Weary on the journey the road of dust
Lifelong but short
Scattered words like autumn leaves dancing on the wind
Poverty sits with a grin
Crouch on the side cap in hand
Watches courage struggle on
Courage not sinking in
Every road has its end
Every book needs a friend
copyright m.hazledine-barber manatthecoalface
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