A Poem

This next entry is something I’ve wanted to do for a while now but due to being too active, it was not possible; so here goes…

I boarded my train and left Braşov behind,

Sighişoara I went, to see what I find.

A little nap later, while I rode the rails,

The man sat opposite told me his tales.

A gent born to this country, named him Dracula’s friend,

He told me about logging, corruption and his government’s end.

Showed me the view as we chugged along,

Pointed out right, and pointed out the wrong.

Near the end of the journey, he asked me for a favour,

To help out his pal, be her blond saviour.

I secured my belongings, and helped this woman out the station,

She walked a little slower so I had to be patient.

We took her bags to the taxi ranks,

As I wandered away, I heard her call out her thanks.

 

Walking to the centre, to find my hostel and bed,

I climbed a million stairs and felt out of breath.

I checked into my hostel then checked out the sights,

The medieval fortress and Sighişoara delights.

The scholar’s staircase, and the church on the hill,

If you’re looking for towers, this place has your fill.

Towers for Smiths, Butchers, and the Tailor,

This city is also home to the Impaler.

Vlad Țepeș, from the House of Dracul,

Never did they know someone so cruel.

The cemetery is where; I spent most of my time,

I strolled around before beginning to dine.

I went to a shop and got my supplies,

Bought some bread, and some sausage, for a meat filled surprise.

As the sun did set I wandered out around,

The city is different without daylight or sound.

At about eleven, I got into bed,

No drinking or partying, an early night instead.

My body was grateful as I awoke from my slumber,

No water from the taps though, my body did wonder.

I did what I could, before checking out,

I walked to my train, was I early? No doubt.

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I stood on the platform, absorbing the aura

That’s 24 hours in Sighişoara.

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