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Aiféala Brón

You pass him by every day at the market,
His eyes always glazed,
You look at him but he looks away,
Everyone thinks he’s crazed,
Though to you,
He does not look so untamed,
Not as feral as they say,
He looks gentle and soft spoken,
Looks lonely and tired
But mostly he just looks broken.
He’s well built and strong,
Helps out in the town when he can.
He’s a good boy,
A nice lad,
A worn man.
His parents are gone,
Has no family to speak of,
No life,
No love,
No home.
I knew him once,
When we were lads,
We were not friends but I knew his name.
He was sad then as he is now,
But just as thus stays the same for him,
It also does for me,
Because just like I had before
I still wish I could make him smile.

Meh, tell me, critique me, I could care less I swear.

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Comments


  • Never-Better25
    September 24

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    Aww, that's sad.. Nicely penned though! It flows so very well! I love the lines:
    He looks gentle and soft spoken,
    Looks lonely and tired
    But mostly he just looks broken.

    Those lines paint him into my mind so vividly. I recognize broken. This is a great write! Please continue to pour your words onto the pages here... Again, great!