The Old Man’s Journal
Just an old ragged notebook
Dog eared and soiled
Piece of wool for a bookmark
Marking years he has toiled
Scraps of memories in pencil
Poems he chose every love word
Secrets not meant to be shared
Voice not meant to be heard
Little pencilled reminders
Of past lovers he’s known
Small doodles in the corners
Past love’s he’s outgrown
Now he sits on a suitcase
As he waits for his ride
To the home he is going
Behind stays his lost pride
In the can by the stairway
Filled with rubbish and trash
With teardrops in his eyes
He throws his life with a crash
.
Love,
CJ
very moving poetry, Felix ...
Peace. Joyce
Touching though.
Ch'erie xx
Fee
Dont throw it away All your memories are pencil in
Which to me it's more meaningful and
There your original sentiments!!NO!!!!
Love And Peace To You...Morning Star
Love Tinka
real sentiments here
treasure it like Michael said
so sad so beautiful
Dove
Well Done.
Michael
Micke