The Old Man’s Misery


Heart don’t beat like it used to;

love doesn’t flow, like it’s supposed to-

I am dried out, like abandoned soap;

I am raw, off regret and woe-

80 years off a regret, that shall haunt this old man;

the years of terrible choices, I shall never ever withstand-

a lifeless corpse walks the path around the bed;

living while dying as I am, the living dead-

with nothing but the conscience left over,

from the very past that I’ve led…

Copyrightcopyright December 18, 2014

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