Homework week ending 10/12/12 'The Lonely Years'
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 2:59 pm
I haven’t done anything for a while but noticed one of the promps more or less fitted a few lines I had started a few years ago, so I’ve fiddled around with them a bit for this.
The idea came from staying in caravan parks where I often saw lonely old men who seemed to have no families or at least had lost contact with them.
THE LONELY YEARS
The days seem ever longer as he moves from place to place,
to keep ahead of loneliness, but it’s an endless race.
He saw so many others; mirror images of him,
old men who now had reached the age when life at times seemed grim.
They spend their lives in caravans, alone until the last,
except for faded memories, of loved ones from the past.
He’d often see them chatting to another lonely bloke,
or anyone who’d listen to their stories or a joke.
But some like him kept to themselves to spend each passing day,
while others craved for company, to while the hours away.
The tedium hung heavy in odd moments of despair,
and thoughts would turn to Mary and the life they used to share.
The evenings were worst for him, with too much time to think
and almost envied some he knew who’d lose themselves in drink.
He wished there had been children he could cherish now he’s old,
but they had not been blessed that way; through problems they’d been told!
But still they’d had each other and he couldn’t wish for more
and in his dreams, when sleep did come, he’d dream of life before.
--------------
© T.E Piggott
The idea came from staying in caravan parks where I often saw lonely old men who seemed to have no families or at least had lost contact with them.
THE LONELY YEARS
The days seem ever longer as he moves from place to place,
to keep ahead of loneliness, but it’s an endless race.
He saw so many others; mirror images of him,
old men who now had reached the age when life at times seemed grim.
They spend their lives in caravans, alone until the last,
except for faded memories, of loved ones from the past.
He’d often see them chatting to another lonely bloke,
or anyone who’d listen to their stories or a joke.
But some like him kept to themselves to spend each passing day,
while others craved for company, to while the hours away.
The tedium hung heavy in odd moments of despair,
and thoughts would turn to Mary and the life they used to share.
The evenings were worst for him, with too much time to think
and almost envied some he knew who’d lose themselves in drink.
He wished there had been children he could cherish now he’s old,
but they had not been blessed that way; through problems they’d been told!
But still they’d had each other and he couldn’t wish for more
and in his dreams, when sleep did come, he’d dream of life before.
--------------
© T.E Piggott
