The old man looks into a child’s eyes
His fingers stretch over the cold trigger
There is a hint of sadness in his eyes

To a certain extent he is glad
Why is more than he can figure
The old man looks into a child’s eyes

That was all he had
To be happy like a child when sadness would linger
There is a hint of sadness in his eyes

The gun is loaded, he feels anger and fear
As the trigger will not buckle under his finger
The old man looks into a child’s eyes

There is a sad detail I see here
There are no bullets in the chamber, yet the persistence lingers
There is a hint of sadness in his eyes.

If there was a bullet to be had, perhaps he could be a little happier
To move on from this forgotten memoir, to finally pull the trigger
The old man looks into a child’s eyes
There is a hint of sadness in his face.