Old Man

Not a lot of inspiration this week other than a rhyme that began early one morning and went to paper and into the computer today. It needs more work so I will develop it more later.

He was grey

He was old

Lines of his face

His story told
 

 

Spotted with age

Hands bony thin

And his life’s story

Written on him

 

 

In his mind

Memory so sharp

No tears in these eyes

Love beats his heart
 

On the porch

He sits all alone

Tea in a cup

Fondling a phone
 

It rings and

He answers again

Smile on his lips

Hello old friend
 

He shuffles

And he creaks

No time for grumbles

Friends he seeks
 

 

In the morning

From quarter to ten

You’ll see him

Phoning a friend
 

He’s laughing

Another story to tell

Old friends denying

Entry to hell
 

Is he lonely

Thinks he might

Kisses her photo

And turns off the light