The Old man stares out of his window at rain fallen.
Not knowing all the while time was looking in.
Which knows more? The man who spent the time or
the one counting. Old men on the porch steps lean forward to tell you
a tale, but it has to be quick. They know the chase is on, and the clocks hands are
on their heels. They know time's a marvel and time's a muse.
It's a situation and a fight that we all do lose
The purse of a smile on the old man says he knows.
The grip on his chain is tightening, and the yarn unravels into the light of the sun fading over the fields - all seen through his window. The body knows it's time to go, but the mind doesn't want to. It's a battle of life over will, and history proves that life's death will win.
Life isn't anything more than a snapshot shot into space.
And fare thee well I say to thee
A simpler life I wish could be
The sage a ruin for he did say
I'd live at least one more day
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