The two young girls saw him
talking to himself, looking at them.
Him waiting in front of the clothing store
for his wife, working & reworking poems
in his head to pass time.
Maybe his lips were moving like Franks use to.
The old man next door that had Alzheimer's,
babbled to those demons, or angels, or
maybe just reworking poems in his head
for all we know non stop.
They, the two girls laughed and moved away.
Him realizing .
He was staring at them,
though not in a sexual way.
More like fuckin kids today looks,
but he was talking to himself.
Just like Frank use to,
just like Frank......
A contest entry
- Hit me with EVERYTHING. PW OK! by z etoile.
375 points, ended March 28, 2008, 56 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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How we judge others and then... we become the very person we were once judging! That is what I thought when reading this poem. You know how many times this has happened to me. And as kids they don't know they just judge they haven't lived yet; Great job!
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Wow I can clearly see why you think\so much for this precious poem.
There is so much going on here.
i wish you the best of luck.
Loveandblessings2u & yours always
Joyce
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