In the Park Al Alone

He sits in his wheelchair, alone in the park above his head floats a neon question-mark. After all he has done, throughout life in his work deep in his closet the skeletons lurk. What has been gained, by this futile trek 'cross the desert of time to be left such a wreck. Now old and alone and too tired to cry he sits and remembers his friends who have died. His spouse is gone to, three years or so now so blankly he stares like a grazing milk cow. His mind wanders back over the past 60 years and the missed opportunities because of his fears. We are born so it seems, not to live but to die and we are kept in the dark about answers to why. King Solomon said it was all vanity and the truth of his words is quite plain to see. Loneliness hurts, it scars and it maims exploits your old age and paints pictures of blame. It cuts through your flesh and stabs at the bone and leaves you in a wheelchair, in the park all alone.