His life
He’s all alone.
He has no one to keep him company,
Except a half-empty bottle
And grand-kids with no respect.
The electricity was cut years ago,
The window panes are shattered,
A cold draught constantly sweeps the house
A near-skeletal figure;
With sunken cheekbones and
Weathered paper-thin skin…
So day-in and day-out,
He shuffles around with his crate,
Chasing the warm embrace of the sun;
Waiting for his ultimate release.
2012/11/20
