The Old Professor Poem by Ivan Brooks Sr

The Old Professor

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I once saw a tired old professor walking.
Nobody had to say to me he was suffering,
I lack sage but had strength to help him.
Shaking and slow his legs were now so Lim,
He was so Pinned down by some of his books.
Son these may seem heavy by the very looks,
knowledge is weightless leave it all to me.
As I turned to go, my life was never the same.

Monday, February 2, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: wisdom
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Ivan Brooks Sr

Ivan Brooks Sr

Monrovia, Liberia
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