The
man at the mining pond
Under
the cool breezy evening sky
With
his fishing rod on line
He
waits patiently for the fish to bite
The
mining pond of bubbles
The
rain water and the hawkers' stalls nearby
Feeding
the pond with nutrients
The
fishes will survive
Though
there is a signage
Telling
everyone no fishing here
On
the record men had drowned
Wading
too deep into the pond
The
man with his fishing rod
Standing
erect waiting for the fish bites
As
the light begin to dim in the sky
Today
he isn't lucky to catch any
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