We are the Old Ones, put by and forgotten by the young, A nuisance to be dealt with and set aside, A body kept together and a soul adrift, Somewhere between this life and that which is to come. Clinging to breath and holding on to a past we thought was real, But perhaps we only dreamed. Ones we loved have gone before us And we are left to wonder where they are. A barely remembered Mother’s touch, A soothing hand upon the face; A lover’s sweet embrace, A child’s innocent joy, A quiet and peaceful place. We sit looking out windows with foggy eyes Searching for something that will not come again, That thing and time for which we yearn Has slipped away without a whisper. We wait, but cannot name that thing for which we wait. The things we spent a lifetime acquiring, Things that once defined us and seemed so important, Are now long gone. We don’t really recall what they were, But they were ours. They mattered to us And we feel the lack of the familiar. Faces come and go and words are said. We do not know the faces or comprehend the words. We do not acknowledge either Because they are meaningless And change nothing. Left with only memories, We wait.
Posted on: Tue, 22 Oct 2013 15:31:28 +0000
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