Him
By OnceUpon
He sits there, No purpose in life, Just to gather dust. But if people really knew what he was thinking They would have felt sorry for him, And he does not want that, He just wants to be alone. Alone, A word he knows only too well, For he has not had a good share of life. People see him, Not as a person But as an encumbrance, Like they have always done. He tries to think, Of the good times, But to no avail. He thinks on, All those opportunities, All those missed opportunities. Why hadn't it worked out ? He doesn't know. He staggers to his feet, Confused. In a puzzling trance, He looks around himself. Looking through his misty eyes, He sees what he wants to see. All of his old friends approach him But they just push past him Muttering. A big house stands in front of him, The house of his wife to be, But that was such a long time ago, He can barely remember. Now its a prison, He flinches, He knows this so well So vividly, How can he forget ? Now its his house, He opens the gate Hopefully for the last time, For he is not well Another thing life gave to him, Happily. Why has life been so cruel to him ? He doesn't know. Written January 16th, 2002 © on Jan 16 2002 05:29 AM PST 0 • 1
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"He sits there,..."