Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2017
They found an old man dead,
down the road
the other day,
He cut grass for a living
died **** eater in hand
Up by the church
Where did he go?
Are we all just
still lifes?
Stolen thoughts
and
Glimpses caught by the
eye of God?
Pieces of some clock
never put together
Seconds, of memories not accurate....
My friend Scott found him. I'd seen him a thousand times mowing the church yard and cemetery. He was old. I didn't know he had a wife and sons. All grown of course. And as awful as it sounds, I don't know why it bothers me so. They say he had a heart attack. He was nearing 80. Lying on the side of the road for all the Yankees and passer-bys to see. But one poor Trailor boy, stopped in his old jeep. Every time, I think I've seen or heard it all, I'm taught once again how ignorant and primitive we are. Scott cried for him. And he didn't even know him.

Be well my friends. I love you.
Gidgette
Written by
Gidgette  UnReality
(UnReality)   
698
         Semihten5, ---, nivek, ---, Pagan Paul and 52 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems