Amitabha

Peace on to the early morning wind greetings from dawn in its rise Following the train down to the trenches in search of daily ends in queues aligned and distorted all hustle to come with a smile. Many will go; some won't be back. It's the reality of the making of a man. In his strength, he shall feed in this feed his freedom freedom from the pain of no feed freedom from the shackles of poverty He gives his vigor to black So he rests at grey It's a market place. At some point, all must go home. Leaking_Penn