Stick People
Everywhere around me I only see
Men and women as thought up by Lowry
They come click-clacking by,leaning on sticks
I feel my senses are just playing tricks.
Hobble and wobble a penguin parade
Their legs grown feeble,their strength it does fade
Where once they were strong,all proud and upright
Now do they stoop and stumble in plain sight.
Old age comes not alone.As the Sphinx says
At evening the sticks become third stays
They creep and they crawl out in the sunlight
Death to soon bring them into deep dark night
No more their echoing steps will I hear
That I'll be close behind is what I fear
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