Old Timer

I could tell that he was growing old

Just by the stories that he told

I could tell that he was growing wise

Just by the lines that framed his eyes

There was something familiar in his voice

When he said to me that life’s a choice

I knew that we had met before

But when and where I wasn’t sure

He spoke of love that did not last

And told of friends that had now passed

He spoke of life and love and hate

From days of bad to nights of great

He said that I would know some day

How every single hair turned grey

He said a difference I could make

If I just gave myself a break

He said that God was my best friend

That I would find out in the end

We spoke for hours until I knew

That I was familiar to him too

That’s when it hit me, this man I see

Was in the mirror

This man was me

 

Reviews

[a]

Great, i think this poem is really great! It silently plants the whole act into my head and imagination. Very light and at the same time serious with it's hidden message and rhetorical question of meanings. The rhythm seams skillful and fluent, and only in few ranks it didn't fell quite thought true. Overall - a very good dialogue with the reader.

[.::Cup^E^Cake*RaWr!*::.]

AMAZING!!
I really like at the end it's you because I do that with mine sometimes & thought maybe people thought I was wierd but apparently I'm not the only one!!
I really love the rhyming & the flow is perfect!!
Great Write!!! =]

[LSS]

So true, So true. Youth is wasted on the young, and wisdom gives us old men runs.
Lar