memories of an old man
He’s one of many who fought in the war.
A medal to prove it and a scar to show.
Look at him sipping his tea from a saucer.
Has no grandchildren though he once had a daughter.
She left him. She just forgets him.
Wasting away the years he has left.
Waiting for the day that will soon bring his death.
Just a frail old man with nothing to give.
A pale old man who just wants to live.
Live out his memories. He still has his memories.
Look at him cleaning the mementoes of his life.
Carefully wiping the picture of his wife.
He’s been a widower for almost a year.
As the memories flood back he wipes away a tear.
From his gleaming eye. Why did she have to die?
Listen to the chimes on the clock he’s acquired.
A present made to him on the day he retired.
Left on his own with no company.
Left all alone with his saucer of tea.
And his memories. No one can take away his memories.
Feeling low down a little rejected.
No one around but then no one expected.
Sitting in the shadow of the walls that surround him.
Looks through the window as the world spins around him.
But what does he care. All he can do is stare.
Noises of the city echo in his ears.
What a shame what a pity they can’t turn back the years.
Look at him smoking his favourite pipe.
Watching the years of his life turn ripe.
With his memories. He still has his memories.
Memories of an old man dreaming of his past.
Dreams that will last. For the rest of his days.
Memories of an old man thinking of the past.
Thoughts that will last.
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