The untold love story,...

From the first kiss of life, to the last, the man sits their and stairs at himself in the mirror thinking about it all. Thinking about the life that has gone past, thinking about what little is left. Thinking about the mistakes, the mishaps, the things that happened. He thinks about the world, and the past things that have happened, and the billions of stories that lie with in the graves of are past. All the love stories gone untold, all the tears not known. The untold tears, soaked into the dirt, never known, never remembered. His tear, falls to the sink, his tear, falls into the drain, and his pain will never be remembered nor told of.
His lost love, will forever escape his fingertips, and you won't  know of it. You won't know his pain, you won't feel his damp tear on your skin. Only one, one who is withering away.
His wrinkled hands, his white hair, his aching body shows the signs of the past. An he is the only one thinking of you right now, thinking of the one you just passed on the side walk, thinking of everyone. His past dose not sadden him, only the one that he has not heard of before, brings a great sadness to his heart. His untold story, is in his mind, in his face, in his bones, visible to everyone, but only felt by one, only known by one.