Old Man's Blues exist in his bottle,
That he drink every night,
Old Man's life exist in that family,
Who torment him day and night.
The old man sang the lullaby sometimes,
Yet his happiness seems invisible oftentimes.
The old man is a good man of heart,
Yet his blue's exist only in the bottle he drink day and night.
The Old Man thinks this bottle despair his worries,
Yet every now and then,
He makes other worry,
Counting on his life's years,
He decided to drink till his death's years.
Yet his daughter cries in dark.
Yet his son stresses during night,
Yet his daughter feels anxious during rough times,
Yet his daughter despise him sometimes.
The Old Man's torment is his inability,
To take control,
So he let himself control the bottle,
Fight every night,
With the woman he find fright,
Yet he became a disgrace of existence of two women,
Oh don't misunderstood him cause he's just a man.
His blues are more than just his bottles,
His words are stuck in silent throttle,
His worries are in those hollow silences,
His words are in screaming violence,
Yet that man often seek the death from God,
While his daughter pray every night to give him life.
Old Man's Blues exist in his bottle,
That he drink every night,
Old Man's life exist in that family,
Who torment him day and night.
YOU ARE READING
The Mad People's Dorm
Poetry"Mad People's Dorm" is a heartfelt collection of poetry that takes you deep into the emotions and thoughts of someone battling anxiety, betrayal, and inner turmoil. Each poem is a window into a mind that has faced darkness and is striving to find li...
