The heavy bag shouldered on my back.
I’ve left my home town with it.
I paddle an old my bycycle.
The driver who I met in my way.
“Don’t you get on my car?”
No It’s all right.
“Do if you throw that away?”
I never done.
“What’s in your bag?”
It’s a precious thing.
“You must throw that away.”
I don’t think so.
I know what I can get better if
I throw this away but I take this.
So it’s my pride and courage.
Even if I the way lasts endlessly.