Darkened skin
Freckled nose
Lines baked in by time and sun
Furrowed brow
Callused hands
dirt stained cracks and folds
Clouded eyes look on and wait
For death?
Perhaps,
Or maybe just a
Hand to hold.
-Clary
Displaced
Posted bysarcasticallycynicalPosted infree verse, poetryTags:art, elder, elderly, family, grief, homeless, Life, poem, poetry, relationship, vagrant, writer
Published by sarcasticallycynical
Hmm! Let's see.I live in Texas born to two human parents (According to my birth certificate) and have three siblings that are nothing like me. I'm an artist and writer. I've lived a lot and learned a lot in my short life and although I lean more towards the pessimistic there is always room to change my sometimes too small tainted heart ;p View more posts
Sarcastically Cynical 