The Old Man…

old-man-in-rocking-chair

Deep in the dust bowl of the desert an old man sits.

Pondering on his loneliness, his mind alone it drifts.

He swings in moonlight wonder and star filled open sky.

A single tear for no one to see in his blood shot weary eye.

Where have they gone? in time and song when all was wrong or right.

His heavy heart and grief inside that leaves a sour plight.

In times of dance and gaiety he was the talk of town and now in times of misery he wears his mournful frown.

The girl who came to be his wife to stay with him for all his life it was not meant to be.

In stormy haze and loving gaze she passed that day at sea.

In such grace but so much haste she left this mortal coil.

The poor old man and now he sits on living tainted soil.

The day she passed his long full life, would never be the same.

He can not hide on this sad night, his tragic sense of pain.

He looks above to clear dark sky he thinks and wonders…..why?

A single tear for no one to see from his blood shot weary eye…

 

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