Talking to Angels

His weathered skin a roadmap

Telling tales of his life

The sorrow filled old man

In final stages, with no strife

He's sitting in a nursing home

With visits on every other Sunday

Children and grandchildren

A one hour trip on the subway

They sit so impatient

Tapping their toes

Checking their watches

Listening to his stories, his woes

Of days long ago

The days of his youth

A small twinkle in his eye

While he speaks with excited truth

They couldn't be bothered to endure

Not a minute more of his routine tales

Not caring for a moment 

This is all he has available

They leave him alone

Abandoned again

And he sits and he stares

He whispers to a friend

He sits and he chatters

Of war and of peace

Of laughter and family

Of life and deceased 

They sit full of wonder

Of what's to happen next

They wish and they hope 

Onlookers are perplexed 

For this poor old man

Who's been left to his own

He sits there and he chats

To nobody, he's alone

He knows what they see

And how he must seem

To everyone else

He's living in dreams

But to an old man

Who's lived a long life

What's more beautiful

Than to chat with your angelic wife

Reviews

[Chiradeep Patra]

Beautifully composed words! Keep writing!

[Sami Khalil]

This is a sad story with a good message within the lines and written with great care and love...Well done and pen on...:)

[creativequill]

thank you, glad you liked it

[Sami Khalil]

I did...You are welcome...:)