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Aug 2017
His hand was cold
Rough and worn
Skin wrinkled, too old
His heart too, was torn

An old man, sitting
Wiping tears off his face
The hot sun hitting
I bought him a drink, incase

He gave me blessings
With a forced smile
Ragged, ***** dressing
He walked from a mile

With no one to look after
All his children left him alone
No happiness no laughter
All he did, was silently mourn

A sad story of a father
Who struggled all his life
His wife, children's mother
Died after a nonsensical strife

Shattered, filled with sorrow
Yet he spoke very gently
He wasn't worried about tomorrow
But I was scattered, mentally...

©sim
Met in the city.
Seema
Written by
Seema  41/F/Fiji Islands
(41/F/Fiji Islands)   
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