Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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Wasted
The first time that we saw him We were worried for his health. He was sat upon a seat nearby And talking to himself. His fingernails were broken Like his unconnected speech And he spoke of really nothing As he stared towards the beach. The next time that we saw him He was stroking a stray cat. Its paws were hid beneath its fur Right where the stressed man sat. My wife first smiled then spoke to him And asked him how things were. He was worried that his wife was ill And sad he didn't care. The last time that we saw him His whole head was in his hands. We were sitting on those seats again Across from Margate sands. Beside him was a notepad Dated 1921 He stood up from his seat and then Half smiled and then was gone. We read what he had written On that pad he left behind: “These words of hope then hoplessness Reflect my state of mind..” -------------------------- "On Margate Sands. I can connect Nothing with nothing." (T.S. Eliot / "The Waste Land")
Copyright © 2024 Gary Radice. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs