Tuesday, August 22, 2006

He who was once beautiful

Once he walked gracefully
footsteps light as gazelles
bounding acrss the plain

Now he stubles and trips
shuffling and slow as a worm
as age and illness whelm.

Cigarettes he smokes today with wine
for both do less harm
than what life has become

In the loss there is yet a glimpse
of what he once has been
yet never will be again.

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