Old Man's Thoughts!
I'm an old man, me, nearly sixty-three.
My life's on loan, you see.
I miss my past, the beauty of spring.
I lost my wife, my loveliest thing.
Wake up 'round five, all on my own.
Haven't got nobody to share the dawn.
Heavy breathing, to start the day.
How am I supposed to live this way?
Noone but death's waiting for me.
Death is life is misery.
Nonexisting, am I already dead?
Am I resting now on peaceful bed?
No, not yet, these worried thoughts,
the worst of kind of human arts.
Write myself a letter to see if it comes right back home.
It does return after days of roam.
I guess I'm alive, but not like before.
I just thought life would give some more.
You'll lose it all, you know you will.
So get ready for the cheapest thrill.
You'll soon be old, ready to go.
I'll leave you now, tip tip toe.
Poetry by Daybreaker
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Written on 2006-09-10 at 23:56
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