Sunday, May 5, 2013

No visitors for the old man.

Soft melodies of a crying guitar
old memories hiden in a jar
the time has come
to face life alone
no illusions of eternal bliss
nor hopes on luck
As the world turns his back
Forgotten in a corner
life slips away
shedding tears of misery
longing of the past
anguish of the undone
shaking hands holding the cane
no visitors today.

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