They sit in quiet rows upon folded linen sheets,
They gaze with quiet eyes upon the empty streets.
No movement stirs their breast, no strong heart beats,
The rows of quiet old ones, on padded seats.
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hey this is a great poem esp. these lines The rows of old ones quiet lie. Occasionally one of them will cry. Occasionally one of them will sigh. Occasionally one of them will die. thanx for sharin koni
a touching write! 10