The Old Man

He stood there Grey hair dirty, long Unwanted His grubby shirt faded Old Eyes sad, torn No one No home Dirty bag holds food Pushed aside Misplaced Stared at Stared from His frame of Shocking disclosures Un-habituated Sits down Pauses, pausing Moving aside Pulling away From life Pulled away from Us, them Wrinkled noses Snickering Compassion Compassionless What happened What happened to you In your burrowing world In your past Decades Have passed Onto your wrinkles Near death Your forever lost And at times So are we With our lowered lids.