Jul 2016
Alone, the old man sits staring out the ***** window,
seeing only what was, looking back not ahead.
The clock is ticking, it is his eleventh hour.
seeing only what was, looking back not ahead.
The clock is ticking, it is his eleventh hour.
In his last days, this was a man I held dear.
His plight in time, I and you shall too endure.
But, oh what memories sustained his breath,
his heart filled to overflowing. He died leaving
much behind and not at all alone, loved by many.
In his time, on this Earth, he did good works.
His plight in time, I and you shall too endure.
But, oh what memories sustained his breath,
his heart filled to overflowing. He died leaving
much behind and not at all alone, loved by many.
In his time, on this Earth, he did good works.
