ON A QUIET STREET,
SHADED BY TREES,
FLOWER BOXED WINDOWS,
AND GINGERBREAD EAVES.

WHITE PICKET FENCES,
GREEN LAWNS TRIMMED RIGHT,
WREATHS ON THE DOORS,
AND TRANQUIL AT NIGHT.

LIVES A LONELY OLD MAN,
TARNISHED THROUGH YEARS,
GOES TO BED AT NIGHT,
ALONE AND IN TEARS.

HIS WIFE IS IN HEAVEN,
HIS KIDS ALL GROWN,
HIS HOUSE SO MASSIVE,
NOW THAT HE IS ALONE.

NEIGHBORS ARE OCCUPIED,
WITH EVERY DAY LIFE,
PEOPLE STOPPED COMING BY,
SINCE THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE.

NOT KNOWING WHAT TO SAY,
THEY DRIFTED AWAY,
HE SITS BY THE WINDOW,
ISOLATED EACH DAY.

WHERE DID THE YEARS GO,
WHEN DID HE GET OLD,
ONCE LOVED WALKS IN FALL,
BUT NOW IT`S TOO COLD.

ON A STREET JUST LIKE YOURS,
WITH PORCH SWINGS AND SUCH,
CRIES A LONELY OLD MAN,
IN NEED OF A TOUCH.

Copyright ©2001
Tami L. Andreasen Bennett