My old drunkard companion
Once a war veteran, who goes
with an old haversack which carry the belongings
hanging on his shoulder.
On his way towards the pedestrian crossing
stands at a bus stop a long time
and waiting for the train called 'Desire'.
Which is scheduled via the Cancer Reservation.
He lit a cheap cigarette, pulled a big puff to bottom of his lungs
and talking to himself.
'It seems to be an exile.'
Sounds of the locomotive echoes as ' passengers get ready please,
those who want to disembark at the station of farewell to the existence'.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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