But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams - Yeats
Monday, 27 April 2015
The Smoke
Alone on the train
Surrounded by people
All living their lives
Through sunshine and rain
Where are we all going
This train full of folk
To be happy or sad
To cry or to joke
As we sit on the train
On our way to the smoke
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