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Poetry
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| Old man | |
| By Vanderlay | ||||
| 24 February 2006 | ||||
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An attempt to portray conflicting emotions. Old man Heavy your head that slumps forward slow, Like a ragged coat that hangs from a hook, What then will linger here after you go? To see you old man no one would know What you gave and all the things that you took, As heavy your head slumps forward slow. . Ever did you feel properly so? To be proper and play it by the book, Proud of what lingers here after you go. Shouldn’t you have helped your flowers grow? Not shovelled and dug till they came unstuck, And have used this head that slumps forward slow. Instead taking their roots out down below, Grasping the buds and hoarding what you took, What then can linger here after you go? I’ll pity the vile in order to grow, I’ll bathe you and shave you, nurse you and cook, Support your head when it slumps forward slow, And lament what lingers here after you go.
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