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.
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