The old man is travelling along the road and his menders of pots and pans.
Besides money he collects meals as goodwill from the goody-goodies to his starving family.
There are leakages in his pots and pans but he neglects to mend them.
Whoever comes to his shack?
Wholeheartedly who agrees his plight?
If the Nobel prize they decided to grant for a spontaneous smile?
The priority should go to this unsophisticated soul.
nimal dunuhinga
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gypsy-tinker-s-unmask-face/
