Free Cee Old Black Joe Wouldn'T Like Any Poetry But For Mine

OLD, AS IN OLD BLACK JOE Like me Don’t you see? He was old With no place to go Old black Joe with his old banjo Old boots and a very old belt Old Black Joe was old as he felt Withered Weathered Wearied Worried And waiting Impatiently Ungracefully Ungratefully Ungraciously Yet he was prepared Old Black Joe and pity paired As into the sun he stared Looking toward the sky As he wondered why Understanding that he had no choice As dissatisfaction would deem his voice Old Black Joe was shaken Forsaken And awakened to what is real As old as fear made him feel Unable to heal Not fearing his last miniscule meal Yet unwilling to kneel Wizened to what weariness can steal Old black Joe was callous never cautious Cantankerous Caustic And callously cold Like me, Don’t you see? Old black Joe was old Oh so old Withered, wearied, weathered and wan And now Old Black Joe is gone ©2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE….~free cee!~