Old man in despair hiding amongst the shadows alone
Body drowning into the depressed fragile armchair
Connection lost as old man faces despair of the end
Old man’s brave face weeps a expression of a smile
Cancerous venom attacking the fragile old man
Old man not of old age but the venom feasting him alive
Aging,
The Golden Years
Life seems crueler as you age,
Another chapter of a browning page.
The golden years, the weakling bones,
The aches and pains, the constant moans,
The loneliness when the kids are grown,
The adjustment of being on their own.
When the busy years are suddenly gone,
And the hurriedness before the dawn.
Old routines quickly fade away,
And a blur is created between the days.
The hustle and bustle is replaced with time,
While things-to-do are hard to find.
Worn shoes sit on an attic floor,
Beside boxed up pictures by the door.
A dress coat and an old striped tie,
Has found a permanent place to lie.
Time has moved on faster then the mind,
Leaving a life that isn’t always kind.
What was new is now old, what was old is now gone,
As we struggle to keep carrying on.
How does one compete with an old abortion and connection that won't go away,
A large piece of the serpent, dragon or that old satan that no one can slay,
A woman marked by God for the big judgement by Christ to remain and stay,
But comment after comment and blogs just remain and leave you nothing left to say!
@ a full series on abortions and past mistakes that prevent any movement
into a better future...abortions, comments, and poems..so get ready for many a
day!
Bedtime a time of quiet remembering
Surely there is the Whip-poor-will's call
Definitely thrice was the ghost calling
No_only an old woman's dream in fall
Now my life seems to pass uneven
As a winter's night storm first rain _ice
Wrestling against old age soon engraven
Longing for youth's vim and vigor thrice
Somehow there'll be a brand new season
Spring soon will spring_ridding earth of ice
There will be a very great reunion
Where the birds and butterflies entice
To all things good or bad there are seasons
Now flash forward__to forever spring paradise
(Se terminer)
Don't tell me wrong count!..Poetic license
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