By seeing this picture what loomed in my mind I entered as letters here,though I didn't link with writetribe.
“My friend and I were
posted to this place.
What we needed was an asylum
To keep our souls in salvation.
Hunted on foot, in auto and
Other ways for hours and hours
And none in aid appeared,
even with a haunted house.”
Where can two young men
Rather slaves or serfs once find
Any person’s attitude kind
To be exposed in destitution?
“Ha! Look at that old man in,”
One in sensation high yelled,
“That house, he is cleaning and
Clearing the compound with ease,less".
The search-gait of theirs carried
Them to the aged, who with
Astounding belief gazed at
And sensed the young’s presence.
At the loss of their near and dear
The boys, at an age very tender and
Orphanage-reared with squalor
Bore a dreary look on the visage.
The man while fighting with the
Weeds and grass behind the building
Lent a carefully listening ear
Breathed like a hornbill in rains.
Heading for them to the way in,
“The cuteness of home and me"said he
"Faded away and still she shades
And shelters me from sun and storms".
My intimates deserted me
One by one in the erosion
Of time leaving me as residue
Here, prior to my eternal journey.
God has readily primed our life’s
Script comprising of
Loneliness and togetherness
And parting and meeting.
This pretty old place of safety
Will welcome you two and
Look after your welfare
Without charging any fare.”
The fret-experienced man received
The two youths, an L.D and a
Group-D with skimpy income from
The job they won with will and wit.