He sits there in his favorite rocking chair
Gently it sways back an forth
It's wood aged from its years of service
Chipped and faded
He sits an stares
Thinking of his old self, me
His eyes past there prime
His face saggy
Riddled in wrinkles
Gathered over the years
They tell a story of his age
Ears hang low, spikes of hairs peek out
He stares out
He would tell you the world is grey
With a complacent look on his face
He imagine his once true love next to him
Her once blond hair white as snow
Her crystal blue eyes
Dulled from the decades
Her skin now saggy like his
She sits in a matching chair as his
There chairs rock in unisons
She would always disappear in the breeze just before she smiled
He sits in his favorite rocking chair
Even though he's old now
He still remembers her
She's everlasting
He finally looks to the sky an smiles
And just as the chair stops
So does his heart
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
He sits there in his favorite rocking chair
Gently it sways back an forth
It's wood aged from its years of service
Chipped and faded
He sits an stares
Thinking of his old self, me
His eyes past there prime
His face saggy
Riddled in wrinkles
Gathered over the years
They tell a story of his age
Ears hang low, spikes of hairs peek out
He stares out
He would tell you the world is grey
With a complacent look on his face
He imagine his once true love next to him
Her once blond hair white as snow
Her crystal blue eyes
Dulled from the decades
Her skin now saggy like his
She sits in a matching chair as his
There chairs rock in unisons
She would always disappear in the breeze just before she smiled
He sits in his favorite rocking chair
Even though he's old now
He still remembers her
She's everlasting
He finally looks to the sky an smiles
And just as the chair stops
So does his heart