A man went on a voyage,
With very little coinage.
His purse a hole,
His money stole.
He walked on toward the moon,
He knew he’d be there, oh so soon.
Where peace be sold.
Where peace be bought.
For young and old,
Where all have trot
A man went on a voyage,
With very little coinage.
His purse a hole,
His money stole.
He walked on toward the moon,
He knew he’d be there, oh so soon.
Where peace be sold.
Where peace be bought.
For young and old,
Where all have trot
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Comments2
I take this poem as a story of birth and the journey of life until death. Very nicely done in metaphor. Lovely
Ty
Travelling to our ultimate destiny, enjoyed the read
Ty for your comments. (:
You are very welcome
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