Ink WhispersA Poem by Angelheaded HipsterFor Paul Squires...
There's an old man,
in a grey fedora and grey suit with a slow rolling gait and pays attention to every little thing that surrounds him When the old man laughs, I can sense it in the rays of the sun, when the old man cries, its heard in the painful tinklings of a well worn piano that's seen its share The old man inspires, whether he knows it or not, his life cord intertwined with the world that he holds in his hands The grey hat is but a thing, a part of him, it does not define him The words don't define There aren't enough to give him a proper name The old man has a way about him, no it's not me waxing romantic, but waxing poetic of an old man who makes the world a little lighter a little brighter He's always there Even if I can't spy him out of my eyes I sense him With a pen a hat a laugh a grin I send a flutterby a butterfly to him. © 2010 Angelheaded HipsterFeatured Review
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13 Reviews Added on March 11, 2010 Last Updated on March 11, 2010 AuthorAngelheaded HipsterMy name is Amber....my friends call me.....Amber, GAAbout"God made my body and if it is dirty, then the imperfection lies with the Manufacturer, not the product. Do not remove this tag under the penalty of the law." ~ Lenny Bruce "I don't care to belong .. more..Writing
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