The Condition of Man
I see the loneliness
In their eyes
The disconnect
With their old wife's
That make a play
Of lost love
To fool
Other eyes
I sit
On the end of there beds
Steer the conversation
To the interests
In their spare time
Smiling and laughing
About their true joys
The distant stare
Of old memories
Childhood places
Where paths have crossed
Where they have not
Reminiscing of another world
That slowly melted away
Unnoticed
Into adulthood
They speak of business
Failed adventures
Moments that
Nearly cost a life
The scars
That act as a calendar
To remember
Those years gone by
Each day
Some leave
Only to be replaced
By more
Sad, sick, tired eyes
I start again
An initial conversation
To gain clues
On how to proceed
I pray
For protection
Impervious to depression
As I
Am sick enough
Yet I still find strength an time
To offer a little relief
To these
Tired, sick old men
I treat everyone as equal
Yet have realized
That not all
Are born equal
Something is missing
In them
I hear my own demons howl
And wonder
Did they not face enough adversity?
Did they stagnate?
Spiritually or in learning
What has stopped them
Acceptance?
Of self an life
I think of my own insights
Into self
Of motorcycle maintenance
And its great reveals
Or is it
As Nietzsche described
'A mans sole desire is his own comfort and is incapable
Of creating anything beyond oneself in any form or risk it all
For the sake of the enhancement of humanity"
Is this what stops them?
I don't know
Thou I try
Try hard to understand
The condition of man
I look around
At these old men
Graying
Fading
Gone
Copyright © Dominic Middleton | Year Posted 2022
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