Traveller

I know an old man
Who likes sitting by the streets
Ragged he was
And always smiling too
With cracks here and there
He was called a lunatic
I cant say, I wont believe that
Knowledge he has
For he told me stories of brave men
Of great tribes on the mountains and hills
Of a land where women laughed when they dance
Of green fields of vast lands
Of places and peoples;
Cannibals and the ship pirates
I’ve listened
It was clear…
The ragged and dirty old man
Is truly wise and learned
The traveller is wiser

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